31 | Cracking the Code

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Elrond Peredhel | The Lord of Rivendell

Location: Mithlond, Lindon, Middle Earth

Time: April 2981 T.A

The last time he saw Lindon like this was when darkness befell this world thousands of years ago.

It was on the eve of the fall, where even at this distance, the elven eyes could see the tempestuous seas grow bolder and grander. The skies would darken, clouds shrouding the stars above as there was nothing more but the bleeding sun setting across the horizon. And when the sun went over, what could only be heard were the seagulls squawking as the winds bristled against the falling leaves and the tides washing outwards.

Elrond was visiting from Imladris when Númenor fell, and all he could be hope that those faithful to once Eru Ilúvatar would survive. Kin of and descendants of his late brother and those he knew were kind to his wife during her capture.

Quite poetic it was, instead of watching those abandoning the shore of one's home: he was watching the Eldar leave their home for the battlefield. Standing in the very spot overlooking Mithlond upon Cirdan's home, it felt to him as if Fate decided for him to always be here. To always remember every time he watched those he loved to go to where there was always a chance of danger.

There was a moment in the blistering wind, staring up at the sky with an ache in his chest. Gil-Estel was once again another reminder of the beginning.

The beginning of the oncoming storm.

He heaved in a breath, letting his hand fidget once more on the hold of Vilya until he heard a voice.

When he glanced over his shoulder, Elrond was slightly astonished by what his friend wore. Albeit similar to what the Noldor once wore during the Second Age, he recognized evidently the differences...or more likely improvements of the design. The stockiness was now reduced, with parts of the armour refined for flexibility. Elven motifs adorned the breastplate and bracers but overall were much simpler than those they once created.

Elrond could not help but lighten, smiling graciously as Gil-Galad returned with a slight smirk.

Then his eyes caught what was on his hand.

Revived upon his hand was Aeglos.

He could only assume that Círdan returned it to him, seeing that he would be the first of many eager to take upon against their great enemy of the East. Though from the many people, that he knew fitted that agenda, it would be a rather long and tedious list to write.

As he arrived at Elrond's side, the two shared a knowing look with each other before they watched the rest of the quendi beginning to prepare their departure in the coming hour. Seeing those they recalled farewell upon the coming battles ahead. Elves sharing their possible last goodbye.

The gradual realization to everyone (and himself in honesty) that perhaps they may never truly see each other again.

It was why so few agreed, even when they had done all they could to persuade those to aid the rest of Middle Earth. Some of the Noldor who had never experienced the land before them or those who did not fight were among those who stayed. As for the Sindarin and Silvan, almost all agreed to take up arms alongside Mereneth and Oropher.

"In my re-embodiment, I had not imagined myself taking up arms once more."

Elrond turned, looking up as Gil-Galad spoke.

He appeared so sullen, and tired, and yet he showed the strength and courage he still posed as once the High King of Lindon. Even in his words, it still radiated remnants of how he was brought up and how he survived. Because in truth, Ereinion Gil-Galad grew up to be a ruler and would always become a ruler in every shape or form. Nurtured since he was a babe, there were only a few that saw who Gil-Galad really was.

An ellon who merely wanted to live peacefully, with a partner and a family and those he loved together.

A heart of a warrior, blessed with fairness and patience that Elrond grew up to respect.

"The last time this happened: we had Elendil and his sons with us," He spoke to him, a twitch on his lips causing Elrond to respond.

"And now you'll be seeing another set of heirs, mellon," Elrond softly finished, looking back up to him with that bittersweetness.

Gil-Galad seemed to share the same, showing an honest plea in his gaze as he murmured to him, "Are you certain you will stay?"

No words could describe how much he wanted to. His heart was screaming yes: he wished to come with them, with Celebrimbor to the East. He wanted to be there when they finally reunite with those he knew could be there. Elrohir and Elladan. He would be closer to Estel and Arwen once more, despite them possibly being too far from where they would be at least there was a road leading to them.

But there was also the mind that told him that this was not his path anymore. No. He had long chosen to venture into battle the very moment they marched upon Mount Doom. When Elrond watched his friends die or badly injured. Seeing every elf he knew from Lindon and Rivendell sacrifice themselves to save this place.

This time it was not his destiny.

His destiny was laid between the contingency of Illyria and Maglor's and those between them, Middle Earth, and Earth itself. Because without him: none would be able to return without the ring. And none could return with someone here to know every detail of information they had between every group.

In some ways, he doubted again if Glorfindel should have been given this, but something inside him knew it was supposed to be him.

The very part that awakened inside of Elrond knew he was in this place for the right reason.

That was why when he inhaled, Elrond gave him a sad smile. "I have my sons to help you along with the Dunedain. My place is here to make sure everything is prepared," He answered him.

Gil-Galad's face showed a deep understanding, nodding slowly.

Though before he could finish and allow him to part down to the entrance, Elrond breathed in, softly speaking as he stared back at him with a similar plea.

"And if you see my daughter and foster son: please give my love for them," He whispered.

Face softening, he then felt Gil-Galad's hand fall on his shoulder. Gil-Galad returned, "I shall do so in my part, honeg."

The squeeze in his shoulder caused not only his heart to swell but his lips to quirk once more into a smile.

Honeg...

Little Brother.

They walked together down towards the rest of the army, seeing not only those going to Rohan and Gondor but also Lothlorien. Mereneth and Oropher would leave with the Sindarin and Silvan in the next several hours, hopefully with the coming dwarrow arriving from the Ered Luin and those from Rivendell as well.

His eyes wandered to the new captains and generals, their heads lowering in a bow towards Gil-Galad. Though once they arrived at the huddled entrance, they were met with Celebrían, Celebrimbor and Finrod already prepared and dressed. He spotted Mereneth hugging Celebrían tightly before Gil-Galad left his side to approach them. Expecting his friend to say his farewell to his wife, he was instead met with the latter Teleri elf who engulfed him with a tight embrace.

Elrond smiled witnessing the siblings in all but blood share a goodbye to one another.

As much as he wished to stay within the audience, he could not ignore the gut-wrenching feeling in his heart. He wanted to say goodbye to the last of his friends, the inner frustrations that their time together was so short.

'Do not mourn for the limited time we had together, mellon nin.'

Blinking, he looked towards the direction of the voice and noticed the kind expression on the lady's face.

Celebrían, despite appearing in the colouring of her mother, was dressed head to too much of her father. The Doriathian-inspired Sindarin clothing fitted her beautifully, with the dark hues blending with the light green and silver silhouettes, matching her hair that was now plaited in the ways of the Noldor.

A blend of both her heritages.

Elrond could not help but vocally reply, "Only as I would not wish to see all my friends leave for battle once more."

Her face softened but her eyes remained filled with kindness and love.

As she reached towards his hands, he could only stifle a breath as he stared down at her face. He could still recall the times when they spent their time together. All whilst her parents wished for them to marry and bind their families together. Instead, they confessed their love to those that did not reciprocate it.

The silver Lady of Lothlorien fell in love with the High King of Lindon whilst he, the Lord of Rivendell, had fallen in love with the Eternal far before they met. It was their circumstance which brought them to understand. Their duty to those that deemed it and their wish to find the light they deserved.

And how they would be parted by their other halves again.

He cleared his throat, asking her with a quieter tone, "Celebrían. Please give my thanks to your parents again for the aid. I wish I could accompany you, but..."

Celebrían pressed her hands slightly upon his before she then let him go.

"I understand, mellon." She nodded, before she continued, "And please. If things are not alright: do speak to Lord Círdan. Or perhaps Erestor."

It was immediate as her face fell into concern, a wariness which washed over him as he then realised what Celebrían meant.

She felt it as well.

The same disturbance within them.

'Please keep vigilant, Elrond.' Celebrían warned him secretly, her eyes never wavering from him. 'I do not know exactly what it is, but you and I know something is lurking here. Something will happen and I do not know when and what it is.'

A bitterness swept within his fingertips and he carefully brought his hands to his side before he nodded firmly.

'I shall be aware, mellon. Thank you.'

It amazed him that her face gracefully returned to its usual expression, turning away with a silent gesture to head over to Círdan who stood beside Aranwë and Finrod. Between her and the next person, Elrond could only spot a short moment between the eldest Finarfinian and Celebrían. He brightened a smile towards his niece before Gil-Galad came over to bid them farewell as well.

By the time his sight panned over across the other side of the courtyard, Elrond was met with a familiar grey-eyed Fëanorian who was dressed heavily in navy and silver.

"Celebrimbor," He bowed his head in respect whilst the elder ellon nodded curtly before he approached him.

With an intake of breath, he responded, "Elrond." The Fëanorian then took something out from his pack before reaching the clothed item out to him. He spoke, "I believe this is for you."

Elrond eyed the mysterious item, glancing momentarily at him, before taking it upon his palm.

Unbinding it from the cloth and string, he breathed in from the sight of what it was.

Made of dark metal, almost the colour of charcoal and indigo, was a cuffed bracelet.

Though what rang different to any ordinary elvish work was not only the material was unlike anything he had seen but it felt almost felt different. He sensed deep protection, almost encasing him in a shield to what Vilya had done to him.

As Elrond carefully placed it upon his wrist, the same feeling covered his very being, amplifying that familiar warmth that he had felt when only placing it upon his palm.

When he then inspected the rest of the engravings, Celebrimbor then explained to him what it was.

"From what Illyria and my grandfather designed as well as my execution: it should be able to stop the connection coming from his side. He will still be able to sense it but he would not be able to take it," Celebrimbor's certainty was to know fault something he didn't doubt. But Elrond still needed to ask more as he then placed it down at his side and spoke in return.

Elrond pressed, "He would not know my location."

"No." The Fëanorian shook his head and continued, "I must thank those of Earth. Vibranium...it is an ore I have yet used."

There was a slight surge of pride in him, remembering the quick meeting Illyria and Celebrimbor had before leaving for the South with Maglor and Bilbo Baggins. She gave a few of the rare metals she possessed, a mixture between her Kimoyo beads as well as what was on her armour. Not only that, but it was also Maedhros who insisted to provide an extra amount from his own collection of weapons.

Elrond glanced back at the cuffed bracelet before then noting in a light tone for a suggestion. "Perhaps one day you shall be able to meet the one whose craft specializes in such ores."

Knowing briefly that the young Princess of Wakanda was eager to meet those such as Celebrimbor and Fëanor, he smiled internally as Celebrimbor's own intrigue showed in his response.

"I would enjoy discussing with them," He answered, before inputting gravely. "Only after this quest, of course."

Nodding affirmatively, Elrond and he shared another short glance at one another.

In truth, he would always be grateful for everything that the ellon before him had done. Not only being there for Elemmírë during their dark days of Beleriand but also from now and every moment of the Second Age. And still: the ellon before him was still repenting. Doing everything he could to repair the damage that he (and perhaps many more) had done to be in this place.

All Elrond could say was one thing.

"Thank you, Celebrimbor," He spoke with gratitude, seeing the relief and gratitude in his gaze.

With a slight quirk of his lips, the Fëanorian replied, "I may be its creator, but Vilya chose you to wield its power." He proclaimed quietly, "And no other shall bear its strength than its own partner."

Elrond's chest panged, surprised at his response.

Though unsure of how to feel about this revelation, instead he nodded with a smile before allowing Celebrimbor to leave their conversation in peace.

However on the inside: all Elrond could sense was the feeling of both ends of the spectrum. On one side he felt he was finally at peace with bearing such a burden as Vilya...and on the other being more afraid than ever before of the consequences of Celebrimbor's statement.

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Elliot Madden | Elros Tar-Minyatur

Location: Oxford, UK, Earth

Time: August 2027

His wife Adelina once told him that karma would always bite him in the ass one day.

Guess that day was now.

Elliot didn't retort though.

Well...obviously not if he wanted to get the look and get whacked in the head by her slipper.

But even then, he had to admit that every second they were heading towards this supposed 'decoder' or helper: he was fearing that shit was about to go down. And it did not help when he was in the company of three people he hardly knew and two of them practically had a massive warning sign slapped onto their faces (figuratively, of course).

Because of bloody course walking around central Oxford with a Noldorin elf and Spiderman would be fine.

Thank God that they managed to persuade the former to change into clothes that didn't make him look like he was going to bed.

As much as Elliot admitted that the tunic and trouser combo looked comfortable to wear: Aegnor Finarfinion stuck out just for his tall stature and long bright hair. They managed to find a hoodie and some khaki trousers (what Maedhros didn't know won't hurt him,) before they drove to the college that Andrea insisted to go.

Once they began walking from the place he parked, Elliot, Aegnor and Peter followed Andrea Barnard down the road, turning towards the direction of the entrance of Christ Church College.

They strode quickly down the paved path, hearing the sound of students chatting – muttering over their so-called 'tall, blonde and himbo-looking' friend. It didn't help when Andrea had no choice but to take his hand from walking too slowly, sensing the glare from several women as Elliot smirked underneath. How the woman before them hadn't noticed the reddish tint on the elf's cheeks or how his eyes never laid on anyone other than her.

'Good god it's like seeing my brother and Mire again...'

He couldn't help but think how the universe (or perhaps the multiverse in this case) just seemed to like patterns so much, even for something as natural as love would be.

If only the multiverse weren't a pain in the arse for making love so tragic.

Whilst he was focused on the two, Elliot could only catch the awe on the younger man's face as soon as he began to talk about their surroundings. Once they entered the main building, he had to admit that the kid was right. Oxford's architecture and its history were extraordinary for what it stands for. It was also nostalgic, really. He still remembered his own university experience: too many nights out at the local pub than actually studying.

Even so, with an economics degree working in a corporate company, he did miss that sort of thrill in the night. Not that he appreciated the quiet suburban/city life. No, he would trade it for anything else.

Peter Parker had other ideas, though. He seemed to be amazed at it all despite knowing from all the news: Spiderman was an MIT student with a high IQ and loved technology and the sciences.

That didn't mean he couldn't fan over it, his smile growing wider as Peter commented, "I've always wanted to go here." A nervous chuckle left his mouth before he continued – his words spilling faster than Elliot could hear them. "I live in New York so it's weird that I'm here and Ned was training so I asked him if he could get me here before his lesson. He's a wizard in training."

As they were heading up the staircase, even Andrea and Aegnor stopped to eye the younger man.

Their elf companion stared back at Peter. He asked, "You have wizards in this world?"

"Well, not wizards. They're sorcerers actually. Like Illyria and Stephen. Oh and Wong too," There was pride in Peter's voice as he continued, "Wong is Ned's teacher, actually. He's been learning with this girl who had cool powers to cross the multiverse." [1]

Andrea raised a brow across, seeing Elliot's face morph into a light chuckle.

Even for superheroes, it would seem they were just simply that. Just kids growing up and still being human then.

Or people. (Couldn't exclude the elf in the room.)

Anyways, they made their way through the rather ornate and large building, with Andrea's eyes focusing on their goal whilst Elliot kept looking about alongside Aegnor and Peter.

At least he wasn't the only one wary; he dreaded to think of who really came to make a shitty mess of Illyria and Maedhros' place and what they would do in a public area like this.

Elliot also gulped down the fear he hid from himself as well.

If those people who infiltrated his workplace were behind this, then it meant that his own colleagues were at risk. Halle Warden would definitely be angry about this, no less pissed off at him for bunking off and probably connecting all the dots. For a woman like her: she was always a step ahead in deducing the truth.

What he would dread would be Adelina and Maristela's safety.

Perhaps he shouldn't think of it right now though. One problem at a time was something he had to push himself to consider.

(He could have sworn that was something Elrond once said to him, but his memories were still hazy.)

They finally arrived at what seemed to be a set of wooden doors halfway through a wide corridor. The place was darkly lit, but with the sun outside streaming through the tinted glass as Andrea knocked. His eyes wandered about, noticing the very few people looking at them before he stopped at the silver plaque at the bottom.

Professor of Linguistics

Elliot looked at Andrea, less confused but still uncertain as to why she went to someone like them all this way. They might be proficient in languages, but how would they possibly know how to figure out a language which didn't exist at all in this universe?

Nevertheless, he really hoped this was worth it.

"Professor Porter."

Once the door opened, there was no doubt that he expected a greying elderly man dressed in academic clothes and spectacles. Though instead of the grey hair, the man in front was almost bald, hair only lining the surrounding parts of his head whilst his grey beard was neatly trimmed. He was around Elliot's height, albeit a little shorter than him but from this stance – Aegnor dwarfed them all.

Though the professor's eyes were only towards Andrea, surprised by his expression. He then spoke in a wispy and yet wised tone: "Doctor Barnard, I was not expecting you."

Andrea stood a little forward than them when she responded quickly, "I'm sorry to bother you, but we're in a hurry but we'd like to just ask a few questions." She quickly darted back to Aegnor before she added, "About Tolkien that is."

The professor's eyebrows furrowed before his face relaxed – though not without the intrigue in his eyes.

Elliot internally raised a brow at that. All he could assume was that this man knew what they meant...or that Andrea contacted him on the way here.

Nevertheless, once he eyed his watch, Professor Porter nodded. "Well, I do have a meeting in an hour."

There was no denying that Elliot was jealous of this man's office.

It was like stepping into a timeless plane: where everything was back in the early 1900s. With dark silhouettes contrasted with golden motifs and decoration, the aesthetic was comprised of dark woods and yet a soft undertone of velvets and leather. The scent of paper and ink lingered in the air, but without the slight tinge of maybe smoke...and biscuits. He could even scent a brew, probably from the side table which consisted of a teapot and several mugs on a tray.

One wall was lined with books, almost imagining it getting swallowed by the number. It was stacked from the bottom, with several more piles of papers neatly placed in office boxes.

The other side was much more different, with instead several plaques consisting of neat metal or even gold frames. One seemed to be a painting of sorts, but it was abstract that Elliot wondered if it was a painting at all by the various different splashes and strokes. It made a difference to the glass-framed certificate, no doubt to be this professor's degree and doctorate certificate.

At the far end was a large window overlooking where they had walked through, seeing the greenery spread out. There was a desk placed just in front of it, with a simple moving table lamp and surprisingly a rather messier desk. Papers scrawled over with a pen laying atop a set of more reports which probably had to do with the reason this man was here beyond the summer holidays.

But despite noticing how busy this man was, this professor somehow had time to speak to them.

Or more notably Andrea.

They spread out across the room, with Peter gazing about the bookshelves and the walls, almost keeping an eye on their surroundings. (Elliot expected it from someone like a superhero.) Whilst Aegnor tended to loom a little behind Andrea's figure, standing firm and still like a guard would do. Elliot noticed that even after taking her hand, there was still a tinge of pink whilst he moved passed, aiming to stand beside the doctor.

Once Andrea took the book out, she urged Peter to get out the rest of the pieces.

"Some of them have been translated but there are some letters that haven't been fully done," She explained as Professor Porter slowly moved around his desk before he halted in confusion...and mostly surprise.

As he watched his eyes pan across the journal and printed translations – Porter gaped at them.

"What in God's name..."

He let out a blustering noise before he added, "Where did you get this?"

All four of them eyed one another as if they were baiting on who would speak.

Or more likely make an excuse.

Peter then stammered out, "Uh...it's..."

"It's a project...For me."

Welp. Guess that's what they were going for then.

Porter's confusion aimed at Andrea before she continued to justify herself.

"I thought about joining your society. And I think I might actually do it," She revealed.

To say the older man's face changed from confusion to absolute hope was something they didn't expect. Porter almost sounded glad by it, clearing his throat as he adjusted his bow tie; "Well, this seems to be something we would be interested in, Doctor Barnard. After all, you have always been gifted in such things like this."

Elliot raised a brow as he eyed her.

"Gifted?"

"Oh yes."

The man before them stopped, his smile forming as he gestured towards Andrea: "Doctor Barnard was one of the best decipherers I have ever met. She even cracked the Turing code faster than any of the boys in the society. No doubt the government would enjoy having you, but unfortunately, the psychology department snatched you away." [2]

Huh.

Out of everything that's happened today – which mainly comprised of running an elf over with his car and then meeting Spiderman – Elliot was shocked that this was what topped the biscuit. And that was that this simple woman who he barely knew was much like every genius he knew.

Note to himself that his daughter would absolutely love to meet her if there was a given chance.

Or when they weren't running against the clock.

Elliot's thoughts were cut off as Andrea leaned forward, hands atop the desk; she asked Porter, "What do you think?"

The Professor took a minute to look through several of the pages, though noting how he needed to adjust his sight as he muttered in disbelief at what was written. But the moment they got to the pages they needed, Elliot noticed how he creased his brows and frowned.

"Whoever wrote this is very adept in their Tolkien," Porter hummed, flicking the page over before pointing at the scripture, "But the patterns."

Elliot chapped his lips and replied, "Yeah, we don't understand the circle patterns."

"Valarin."

All of their heads turned behind them, seeing Aegnor look blankly back. Elliot tried his best not to input back a retort, wondering why he was getting quiet of all of a sudden again. Since what the elf said back at Maedhros and Illyria's house, he was still reeling in anger at the lack of truth for him.

This was the universe they were talking about and still, he didn't want to say anything.

Fine then. They'll do it themselves.

Porter's tone piqued as he echoed, "Valarin?" He noted out loud, "Never had I seen these sorts of things. But look here. You can tell the overlap and cross are repeated here."

He pointed across the several circles connected to one another. Though to Elliot's eyesight, there was nothing obvious about it. Maybe it was just him, considering how Andrea was humming through her lips merely pursed – concentrating.

"This tells me that it must be a recurring vowel or consonant." Porter murmured, "By what I can recall Valarin...it is a sound that we cannot hear."

"Can't?" Elliot frowned. "What do you mean we can't hear it?"

Porter looked to him for the first time as he spoke, "In Tolkien's works, Valarin was the language of the Valar and all those of Ainur."

"The Valar, Illyria said they are spirits right?" Elliot pressed on, wanting to know where they were going about this.

A moment later, Andrea turned across them and asked the blonde elf, "Aegnor?"

"Aegnor?" Porter flicked his head with even more perplexity.

Don't get them started on this.

Aegnor nodded firmly, "They are spirits, yes. They have a form called a fána." [3]

"It means they have different ways of sensing the world compared to us and other physical beings," Andrea muttered, mostly herself as she looked back at Porter before eyeing the journal again.

At the same time, Peter had hovered closer, pointing out to them another comment.

"It means we're not in the frequency range." Peter replied, "Anything we hear from them will sound like a static mess. Like a radio tuning. Just as a television set tuned—"

Elliot let out a short gasp and added on;

"So it means we can't read it, not because the patterns don't make sense in our eyes...but for the Valar—"

Andrea eyed him, "The Valar's senses would be able to 'see' it per se."

Well, this sort of explained this...kind of.

More of putting them back to square one as Elliot's brain now concluded that this wasn't for them to see.

Wait a minute.

"It doesn't make sense," Elliot narrowed his eyes, looking across the other faces in the room as he told them, "Illyria said Lúthien and Beren wrote this when they were human."

The Professor made another disbelieved noise as he scoffed, "I fail to see how two fictional characters have created this—"

Aegnor's eyes widened as he then spoke, "Lúthien was alive..." He peered back in shock, "I thought she perished?"

Elliot suppressed wanting to peer suspiciously back and instead answered, "She did. Long story short: they're Tolkien and somehow they knew what was going to happen." He gestured his hand out to the journal with a slight sarcastic undertone, "Hence this shit is here and we have no idea how to figure this out without some spiritual god to read it for us."

It was Andrea who shot him a warning glare, and he merely looked back without any return. He knew he was really testing the waters and if pushed any further he would either have a dagger at his throat before socking him back because of his secret.

With a small inhaled, Andrea implored the man across the desk, "Professor, is there anything else similar to this sort of language? Or a code, perhaps?"

Unfortunately, Porter shook his head.

"Not to my knowledge, my dear." He said with a grave tone, though then trailed off, "But...I have recalled something similar."

Whilst the professor moved out from the side of his desk and towards his bookshelves, Elliot straightened his back and stifled a yawn before taking out his phone.

Still no reply from Maedhros.

Which...not cool, man. Really re-living his previous childhood as a hostage and being neglected by the same exact ellon.

Fucking fantastic.

Somehow between the short minutes of waiting for Porter to finally return to his desk, Elliot had gone through several missed calls and emails before he then heard the former speak.

Laid beside the journal they found was a larger book. Laid out in front were pages which had detailed drawings of what seemed to be historic measuring instruments.

"These were ancient Greek codes, which used sundials. Only certain angles of the light would reveal the code which was written upon the stones," Porter explained, indicating how the codes referred to the drawn journey of the Sun.

Elliot tried his best to understand it. It seemed plausible. For something related to such natural causes, the light would seem to be an obvious thing. And perhaps it could link to the fact that if it was Valarin, would they have a way to see it—

There was a sound of ripping.

Right next to him: the doctor's fingers pried the journal's page with a hold of the binder.

Wait.

Elliot opened his mouth, "Andrea...Andrea what are you—"

The page tore right off down the crease.

Well...

Shit, he really hoped Illyria wasn't going to be pissed with Andrea ripping the book apart.

"Andre—"

She then tore another.

And then another.

Until there was almost a small pile beside the journal.

"Well too late."

There goes whatever two of the most cryptic authors' creations. Elliot, albeit a sort of bookworm, was not as horrified as Porter in front of them. He appeared almost paled compared to a few seconds ago, all whilst Peter and Aegnor had gaped back in silence at what Andrea Barnard just did.

Andrea did not even seem to be fazed – but quite the opposite.

There was determination in her actions, moving the pages with both her hands as she placed them somewhat in an order they had no idea of. There were twelve pages overall, all spread across as she Andrea looked upwards to Porter.

Professor, you said to me that our minds are set to focus on patterns. To look at the changes of these patterns as well as anomalies," She began before she inhaled, playing the last page down. "So what if we change the pages themselves to move them as we see them instead."

Once she did: Elliot had to take a moment to realise what she did.

He swore under his breath, leaning in.

"Holy shit..."

"That's..." Peter – who had drawn close – trailed.

Elliot let out a short breath that almost sounded like a gasp, "That isn't a language or an alphabet."

It definitely wasn't Valarin either.

Set in front of them in a messy compilation...was nothing they had thought of.

"It's a map."

Elliot answered in awe, though not before questioning further: "But a map to where?"

When turning to the person who did this, he wanted to know if she knew what she had done. But all he saw was more of Andrea's mind constantly reeling again. She knew it was a map, but now what did that mean to them and Dagor Dagorath then?

"Guys..."

"Where?" Elliot asked, his eyes looking back down at the circular patterns which were now connected through distinctive contour lines and grids. He then noted with irony, "If it's Middle Earth then we're kind of a Silmaril short."

Andrea remained silent.

"Guys—"

"Where then? And why would it be a map?" Andrea murmured under her breath, "If this was given to Illyria, she would have known already. She was a cartographer from what Maedhros said about her."

"Guys!"

Both Elliot and Andrea looked over to Peter, who had now stood by the window.

"What?"

Peter then proceeded to state simply, "I'm trying to say that there's a bunch of men in black who pretty much looked at me right up from this office...and I think they're here for us."

Fucking hell.

His calves were fucking on fire.

But he couldn't exactly do anything about it considering a bunch of men in black were literally on their asses.

Elliot was breathless. How the hell did Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli do this for days just to catch up on the Uruk Hai? How many times did they stop just to give Gimli at least a break? Because as much as he was pretty human at the moment, he was more dwarf when it came to full-out sprinting across Oxford just to get to his car.

Gods...if either Illyria or Elrond knew about this they were going to laugh.

Then again, at least it felt better since the adrenaline was keeping his awareness in check. Not that a bunch of people wanted them – dead or alive.

Let's just hope alive.

He did feel bad for sort of leaving the professor a little (well not little) vulnerable the moment they grabbed all of the pages, and thanked Porter before they ran out of his office and into the back exit of the college. Elliot expected that they would go and ask everybody to know what they were here for and if they said anything, but he could only hope by how much Porter respected Andrea it wouldn't be too much to worry about.

The only thing they should worry about is figuring out how they could get out of Oxford...or more likely get off these guys' radar.

Peter and Aegnor were the only ones who didn't seem to be too hit from the running, compared to him and Andrea who was breathing heavily through their chests. As soon as Elliot spotted his car, he quickly unlocked it and ordered them to get in.

Once he jumped into the driver's seat, he didn't have time to take a breath before he reached out to plunge the keys in and set the engine into the ignition.

But there's only one issue.

"I don't care if you put on a seatbelt or not, just tell me where to drive—"

"Oxford airport."

Elliot eyed Peter next to him with a disbelieving expression.

Peter responded quickly, "Just drive, I know what I'm doing." He added, "I took a call whilst we were running."

From the mirror, he got a glimpse of both Andrea and Aegnor gaping back.

Oh, they were really fucked right now.

"Well, I hope so, kid." Elliot said in shortened breaths before he commented in disbelief, "Because I'm going to have to break over a dozen bloody laws to get to your friend."

He then pressed the accelerator.

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[1] - Spiderman NWH ref: Ned Leeds has a natural ability of the Mystic Arts. I decided he would become an apprentice in this timeline because Ned is op.
[2] - The Turing Code: Reference to the Enigma code which Alan Turing solved. I'd like to think that if Andrea didn't focus on psychology, she would be an excellent code breaker due to understanding patterns in all aspects of people and things.
[3] - Fána: The physical form the Ainur create. They can change whatever they can be but there are limitations. Just as Sauron, who had to change his form over time but it grew weaker due to the power he held.

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A/N: And so the adventure continues. And this chapter we get our favourite Peredhil twins on their own, which I only realised now that I did when editing this.

I love the strong bond between Gil-Galad and Elrond; I always thought of them as brothers despite being not closely related. Elrond and Celebrimbor's friendship which stems for their love/strain for the Feanorians and Illyria. I also loved the interaction with Celebrian which hints that in the wider multiverse: there are universes where Elrond and Celebrian fell in love with one another. 

Perhaps this is due to who the nexus is? Hmm? I'll let you think on that. :)

As for Elros and the unhinge group he's in, I think he's on for the ride, but starting to really get on with the odd group. But now we see Andrea starting to be who she originally was, and figuring on that the so called journal is a map. But a map to where exactly?

Well you'll find out.

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Edited: 05/05/2023