8 | Family Dinners

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Elrond Peredhel | The Lord of Rivendell

Location: Imladris, Middle Earth, Arda

Time: March 2981 T.A

Elrond Peredhel was many things. And strictly speaking on how his city was known as the Last Homely House of the East: he would resolve such tensions in his way.

Which was gathering the Fëanorian brothers and his close friends and family to dinner.

Quite a lot of people could say that was the worst idea the Lord of Rivendell has ever produced. But what else could Elrond do other than suggest making them sit down and talk about their problems? One did not need to be smart to know that it was dangerous to have a Fëanorian gathering where they were forced to show their emotions.

But with dinners: dinners came with food. And food meant hoping a lot of them would begin talking about their favourite dishes or remembering fond memories of eating with family and friends.

Elrond had them in the family dining room, with him at one end whilst Illyria sat on his immediate left and Maedhros on his right. He knew it wouldn't be wise to bring Glorfindel in, especially with tensions between Illyria and him with what occurred. Instead, he hoped that his good brother was spending some more time with Erestor, perhaps having their own dinner plans that could build more of what had happened.

They had the table filled with a moderate amount of food for all of them. He knew easily how to ration food and yet keep the finery of the dishes for such an occasion. Though Illyria's advice to keep things as simple had allowed him to keep it such as that. Their dinners back in Oxford were like this, even with her parents when he and their twin sons visited New York. It was homely and comforting, and he had hoped it would be like that here as well.

They tucked into the meal, hearing them begin to eat as he glanced about. Illyria was eating better now, though still a little pale and slow with her portion but there was an improvement. He was proud during what was technically the morning that Illyria had managed to finish her breakfast, after seeing her mention how full she was when they dined in his rooms.

Their rooms. Elrond had missed the thought of that, with centuries spent sleeping alone.

And with the glance over the table, there was a silent awkwardness at the beginning before everyone became overly too tempted by the food and dug in. His wife was talking quietly to the red-haired Fëanorian sitting beside her, one of the twins who was commenting on what sort of food they ate back on Earth.

The other twin on the other hand sat opposite his own, taking a bite of some baby potatoes they had stocked throughout the winter.

Amrod, the one who he had been looking began to speak – a voice of thankfulness and a nod towards him. "I must say this is a surprise, thank you Lord Elrond for this." His green eyes held a slight amusement as he commented, "A family reunion."

Opposite him and two seats from Amras, the platinum-haired ellon made a noise, causing a few eyes to glance at him. "Sad that Atto cannot be here," Celegorm said in a blank voice. He continued to eat, swallowing his food before he sarcastically added, "Though I suppose he does not wish to greet his children."

There was a moment of silence as Elrond tightened, his eyes warily looking down the table as some noticed one of their brothers had stabbed their food a little too violently.

Caranthir's face was blank and yet everyone seemed to know the simmering annoyance that was growing upon his gaze. His voice sliced across the air as he gritted his teeth, "You forget that Ammë and Kurvo are still in that Vala's hands."

Across him, Celegorm eyed his younger brother with narrowed eyes before he nonchalantly added, "Come now, Moryo. Relax for at least one meal."

However, Elrond knew immediately (considering the weeks and months with them being here) that this made the dark-haired Fëanorian far from relaxing. Caranthir's face was livid: green eyes that were growing with anger as the grip of his fork and knife tightened. He looked as if he was going to get up and lunge at his brother, or perhaps stand up and walk away.

Instead, his eyes looked to Maglor who had been eyeing him with a gaze. Elrond spotted Caranthir loosen his grip, the tightness in his posture lessening until all he did was glare at Celegorm instead, the fire unfortunately still there but tamed.

He should have expected that the sorceress who sat next to him had to input herself, warning Celegorm with a similar tone.

"I think you need to shut up, silver boy." Illyria had put down her cutlery, her eyes staring directly at the fair-haired ellon as she jutted her chin in Caranthir's direction. "Your brother at least isn't the one who had his head almost explode when I told you guys that the grenade wasn't some conker."

Celegorm smirked, a slight annoyance in his tone as he heard Amras and Amrod hide their coughs. "Yes, yes. I may have been unaware." He then quickly changed the subject, a mused tone on his lips as he laid his gaze on his older brother, "Your world is rather fascinating with such weaponry. I bet Atto has made plenty."

Elrond then heard Maglor's voice from down the table. 

"You should not speak of human weapons as if they are toys." Sharp and controlled, his foster father said almost like a warning.

Celegorm's smile turned into a grin that held nothing but fury. 

"As if you would know, Kano." He said in a fake-sweet tone, almost making everyone's shoulders tighten and their heads either looking at him with a frown or looking away. His voice carried on, spite dripping in his tone as he continued: "You have been doing the Vala's bidding. Doing whatever Maitimo has been doing I assume? Being a hero and all."

He watched everyone now focus between Celegorm and Maglor.

Maglor abandoned his food as well, still maintaining his facial features expressionless as he answered him honestly, "I have been making sure you are all alive." He explained, "And that means saving this reality and Earth's too."

A snort left the faired-haired ellon's nose.

Maedhros had finally intervened, glaring at his brother as he warned: "Tyelko, enough."

However, Celegorm let out a disbelieving laugh, gesturing to them and Maglor as he asked them all, "I cannot believe that you simply agree with him. He turns up here with you, stating that he has been travelling between our worlds and the Eternal's and you do not doubt what he has done?" He questioned, "How do you know it's the truth? How does she know he's our Makalaurë?"

Illyria narrowed her eyes. Elrond's breath hitched as they noticed her eyes flashing under the lamps. She said smoothly to Celegorm, "I would know if he was lying unless you want a demonstration?"

He mentally tried to tell her to calm down, that all she was doing was fuel whatever Celegorm had insinuated on his own. However, of course, the Fëanorians would never easily accept someone to be their titled sister without knowing clearly how similar she was to them. Illyria's control of her emotions was far too alike to theirs, with anger focused on defending the most ridiculous things.

Inside he wanted to hold his head in his hands, wondering how this had even started.

"Turcafinwë Tyelkormo."

Maglor suddenly snapped them all back up. 

Elrond's head turned to look back at him, his heart growing slightly cold when he saw those blue eyes – a simmer of anger that warned not only Celegorm but everyone on the table. 

His eyes then quickly dimmed but remained stern, telling his brother, "I have not lied to any of you. I have truly been with the sorcerers and have been helping our world from possible destruction."

Celegorm almost looked surprised, his eyes widening as he leaned back from his chair. He clamped his mouth shut, almost too harshly at what just happened.

Even Elrond, who has never in his life and memory of him, had seen Maglor Fëanorian speak up and snap his emotions back at them.

Perhaps the years as Lokachari have truly changed him. This was far from the Maglor he knew back in his youth. Even Illyria, who had stiffened in her spot shared his concerns. Whilst for Maedhros, he seemed more worried for his brother.

Then Caranthir's voice rang around the dining room. "Then why have you not saved them?" His voice was tight, his anger returning. But now onto Maglor instead. "You possess a Silmaril. Why have you not tried to go to Aman when it had been possible?"

All their eyes went to the ellon in blue robes.

Maglor closed his eyes, his true age reflecting how he moved and spoke when he replied, "Brother, it is not that simple." He explained to them, "The Valar are watching us. Watching me and Illyria and anyone who can possibly go through the realms—"

"Our little brother and mother are suffering!" 

Caranthir's voice echoed around them, causing them to stop what they were doing. He slammed his cutlery down, the metal clattering against the metal platter as he snarled, "And we are sitting here after some petty battle assuming everything is alright?"

He could feel his heartbeat panging in his ears, letting the scene unfold in front of him. As the dark-haired Fëanorian stood up, he glared back at everyone before he scoffed – leaving the room with the slam of the doors.

Maedhros called out to him, "Carnistir—" 

However, he was already gone before he could speak.

Elrond looked across the table once more. Everyone was either too stricken or provoked by what occurred. Maglor appeared deflated, his head hung low as he sunk back on his chair. Amras remained focused on eyeing the empty chair down the table whilst Amrod was staring down at his plate – glaring more at the food.

As for Celegorm, he may have hidden it well but Elrond knew guilt and rage were swirling inside him, his anger more directly on his older brothers. Maedhros remained silent, neither showing any reaction but staring in front of him where Illyria sat.

Illyria stared back at Elrond, asking him mentally: 'Are you okay?'

Elrond swallowed; his appetite was now gone. 'I am fine, melmenya.'

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They all retired back to their temporary house, though he was unsure if any of the brothers had gone home. Maedhros left to go Caranthir whilst Amrod aided his twin out of the dining room. Celegorm left on his own, not informing where he was off to but knowing the older ellon, Elrond assumed he would go out to hunt to let out his anger.

Which left him, Illyria and Maglor on their own. But even Maglor excused himself, quietly thanking him for the meal before he exited the dining room.

Elrond spared no second but to finally relax, letting his emotional exhaustion at as his shoulders slacked and he rubbed his forehead. A headache was probably the least of his problems this evening considering what just happened. He heard the chair next to him creak, sensing Illyria's hand placed atop his arm as she looked down at him.

He leaned against her, resting his head on where her stomach lay as she smoothened the top of his head, hugging him despite the odd angle as he tried to relax his breathing.

This had been far from the idea he wanted to achieve. Instead of bringing them together, the brothers were further apart than they ever were.

As they shared a few more minutes, Illyria asked him if he wanted to retire to their rooms. The idea was tempting but he shook his head, telling her that he wanted to do something else beforehand. So with an assurance that he would meet her back in the family wing, Illyria left with a chaste kiss atop his head.

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The thing he had not elaborated on was right in front of him.

He found him sitting in the main garden, though a garden might be an overstatement by how it appeared. All that was left were brambles and bushes, with no leaves nor colour other than the cold dark brown hues and perhaps some evergreen holly leaves that had fallen. The stone path that was once embellished with elven patterns and runes was cracked and ruined, left with some markings from the fire and explosions around the outskirts of the house.

Elrond carefully approached the ellon who sat on the bench, passing through the archway. He still recalled this garden; it had been one of the newer ones they built over the years. To his surprise, it was a favourite spot of Estel's as he liked to play here or read. His sons would join him, using their light magic with care for such a young boy.

This was also the place a young Arwen asked him and her mother to leave her. To promise her that their family would always be together despite the world beyond the borders of their home.

As much as the garden itself, time had forced them apart.

And for some ironic symbolism, Elrond was the only one left here.

With his foster father.

If he even was his foster father anymore. Even if he welcomed him, Elrond had meant it to his father and not the sorcerer who was deeply focused on his meditation. There was no doubt he was in awe of it. Seeing Illyria meditating was like seeing a spirit appear before him, but Lokachari's aura was different.

It was mysterious and foreign. Even stranger than he first met Illyria Ettelëa.

He sat crossed-legged, blue light patterns surrounding him in rings. They were like Illyria's, with floral and runic patterns that were constantly in motion. They thrummed in a different sensation around him, finding now the source as he spotted what was on Maglor's chest.

A lotus flower made of metal, its petal unfurled as he saw the familiar jewel that radiated with pure light and energy.

Maglor's eyes were closed, almost frozen like a statue as Elrond waited. When the light from his chest dimmed, he spotted the lotus flower close with a click as it hid the jewel. The patterns and eldritch magic dissipated into the air in blue dust.

When the older ellon let his breath out, he opened his eyes – staring right at Elrond.

Whatever he had done with the jewel, the power that was held on him: it was nothing Elrond had seen. He had only seen Arwen use it for detection, a minimal tapping into its power. And as for Illyria and Fëanor, they had used Earth technology and knowledge to use it as a source.

But not a relic or a weapon.

Elrond stood far enough, close to the centre of the round open area as he softly called out to him, "You wield the Silmaril well."

Folding his hands atop his lap, Elrond noticed they were still covered since they first met. Maglor spoke, eyes glancing down at the lotus necklace. "It took years to master its abilities." He continued, his voice a little quieter. "I have yet to learn more of it."

Elrond cleared his throat, unsure for once how to reply. What did he mean by years? Decades? Centuries? Millenniums? Had Maglor obtained the jewel all this time?

Then Maglor changed the subject, his voice calm but genuine as he lowered his eyes, "I apologise for what occurred at dinner. I know from Illyria you had done it for the sake of my return." He stood up to face him.

Carefully, Elrond quietly asked him: "Who else knows you are alive?"

Maglor simply answered him, "Only my mother and Ulmo, Ossë and Uinen and that is all." His face morphed into concern. Elrond speculated easily that the ellon before him had read his mind. "Onya, do you wish to speak to me?"

Wish? Perhaps more like a demand. Elrond wanted to blurt all his questions out, but the first that had come up had been the sense of his ring upon his hand. He had tried to wear it for the past few days, the fluctuating power that had him sometimes waking up in or jerking from where he sat or stood.

He could still remember the pain in his mind. Rupturing all over his entire body, the soaring pain made him howl and scream – forcing him to collapse. All whilst his entire home was getting destroyed.

Elrond had felt so weak. He felt nothing of the half-elven lord he had created himself as. The once herald and elven warrior all Middle Earth had told him. His strength in enduring the years after the death of his wife and all those he cared for.

All defeated by one moment in his life.

The deepest parts of his heart had broken out, letting him open to the last person he had expected. With a deep breath through his nose, Elrond confessed to him. "Sauron had tried to wield Vilya and put me under command. And now it seems rather different."

Concern formed on Maglor's face, layered by curiosity and familial – fatherly – love.

"May I?" He asked him.

Elrond took a second to look at him. He would never hurt him or take what was on his hand, no less face the wrath of Illyria who would know immediately what happened.

Taking a step forward he rose his hand, letting Maglor's gloved ones hold it and study it. Elrond began to explain, "I have asked Lady Galadriel about it. She does not know or has not told me all that occurred during the fight between the powers."

He expected for him to react to her name, but Maglor's focus on the blue ring upon his finger – the strum of different auras surrounding him and his nephew's work – made Elrond peer down at him. He wondered if Maglor had ever met Galadriel during the years, or if that had been the cause of him not reacting as far as Elrond hoped.

Maglor let go of his hand before he asked him, "Strange spoke to you about it, correct?"

He narrowed his eyes. How? 

Elrond spoke, "I will not ask how you know about that."

His foster father replied, "Strange and I like to send messages."

Elrond internally scoffed whilst he openly made a huffing noise. "That may be an overstatement from how he reacts to your messages, Atto."

He spotted him quirk his lips, amused at something he was thinking. Maglor's face then looked around, panning the garden as he responded, "He is an interesting man. I show high respect for him, for what he has done for the multiverse."

Elrond then noticed him eye the skies. Maglor's eyes had narrowed whilst he made a grim expression. "What is it?" He asked him.

Maglor gestured to the ring on Elrond's hand as he explained, "Vilya merely enhances, heals and sometimes wields the elements around you." He told him, "Best scenario for you is that you continue to do so. Connect to Vilya with your ingolë. It is how most relics make the most who choose their wielders."

His voice had trailed off inside Elrond's head, finally realizing the gaze and topic he was talking about. Even so long, he knew what he was doing. Maglor's tendency to change the subject to remove the truth that was on his mind.

It was something he did when he and Elros were children when death was likely upon them and he tried to dissuade the fear.

Elrond's throat dried, trying to come up with the words but only a question escaped his mouth.

"You won't be staying long, will you?"

Blue eyes dimmed as Maglor closed his eyes and inhaled. He looked at Elrond with sympathy as he said, "I have things to finish, Elrond." His eyes darted away, towards the house, as he trailed off: "And Illyria..."

The name struck him, causing Elrond to warningly eye him.

Maglor must have sensed it, trying to assure him. "Elrond, I will ensure her safety."

However, all Elrond could muster was without a doubt disagreement. Had Maglor not understood what happened? "When you arrived she was confused and torn, Atto." Elrond gulped, his voice almost begging him despite the sharpness at the end of his words. "I cannot let her go. Not until I know I trust you enough."

"I have kept her safe for thousands of years," Maglor spoke somberly.

"Not enough for her to realise now that she is half-aini," Elrond hissed. 

Why was his foster father even considering him? Right in front of him out of all people? His eyes shut close, trying to maintain his emotions. Elrond continued with displeasure, "If they discover who she is. If the enemy discovers her heritage. You know what they could possibly do to her. They will kill her just to obtain whatever is inside her."

He heard Maglor step closer to him, now only concern in his voice. "Onya, what have you seen?"

"That is something you are not allowed to know." Elrond opened his eyes and warily eyed him.

Maglor inhaled, trying to reach out towards him with his continuing pleas of assurance. "I do not speak for Illyria, Elrond. Only I may advise her that whatever happens to her needs to be controlled." He whispered, "I can only do it if she trusts me."

Elrond turned away, striding far as he could. His breath had gotten shallow, trying to stop his mind from remembering again that vision.

The blue robes upon the battlefield. The blinding light exploded out from him. His magic swirling in blues and white.

It had been him.

The figure in the blue robes.

The vision had changed over the past few months. Not only acknowledging that it had been him but everyone else. Maedhros' eyes wore a glint of orange and red whilst there was now a new figure amongst them. A force of purple and gold. The flying of gold and red in the skies as dragon reigned the scarred land.

A figure with blonde hair tied back with a helmet with a dragon statue on the top.

Illyria's voice screamed back at him, finding her figure shifting between a translucent glow whilst holding out her hand towards him.

'I'm sorry, Melmenya...'

She told him in his vision, but more words began to call out from his head.

'I have to do this. I want to do this.'

The vision was shoved back when he blinked several times, swallowing the bile that had risen in his throat.

Elrond whispered, knowing that he was still there. "Keep her safe, please?"

He didn't need to turn back, feeling his hand upon his shoulder. Maglor replied gently, "As I always have done for both of you, onya."

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Maglor Feanorion | The Wanderer of Worlds

Location: Halls of Mandos, Valinor, Aman

Time: Unknown

"Makalaurë"

He turned to his mother who stood behind him. The rift of the Silmaril was present before them, ready for him to depart within the deepest and furthest parts of the Halls.

Nerdanel stared at the rift, her arms folded across her as she murmured back to him, "Makalaurë, you have to be careful."

Maglor looked at his mother when he asked, "Why?"

A grim expression was worn on her face as she eyed the figure that was suspended in the air, the golden strands floating around his relaxed face. Nerdanel inhaled, "I don't...I don't trust him."

"Why?"

"Varda." Nerdanel's voice hit him like a bell upon a tower, ringing in his ears as she told him, "He's Ilmarë's child. Any of Varda's closest companions and children have always been tricky to read."

"Ammë, perhaps you are just overreacting." He frowned.

But of course, the former assassin would always keep aware of her suspicions, telling her son the same thing. "Just be careful, my son," Nerdanel advised. "Don't allow your trust to be close."

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Location: Imladris, Middle Earth, Arda, Ea

Time: March 2981 T.A

He stood at one of the open balconies of one of the courtyards which overlooked the valley. It had been raining today, known to him that it was perhaps Elrond's continuous battle in finding a deeper connection with Vilya throughout the past few days

Since his talk with Elrond, the dinner with his brothers; Caranthir refusing to talk to him and Celegorm ignoring him, Maglor had tried to do the same and stayed as far as he could from the Homely House. He would only sleep for a couple of hours, using his Astral form to continue his work and planning.

He was true to his word when he spoke to Elrond. Illyria may be healing but if she stayed, her control would grow unhinged. The realities he had seen Illyria had been more of damage than resolution and wanted nothing more but to save the pain everyone had.

Rivendell – Imladris – was supposed to be the place where those who wanted to heal could. A place for travellers to have a nice place to rest and clean up and enjoy the peace. How Kamar-Taj was the place for him every time he would return from his journeys. It may be a place of training and magic and, of course, too many dangers, but it was a place he called home.

No one would believe him that he had been to multiple Rivendells. Illyria would and perhaps Maedhros would take a few seconds to realise before sighing to themselves at how ridiculous it was. His first time stumbling upon Rivendell had been this one, hiding amongst the borders as he found the place still being built. The next few had been on different occasions, all looking similar and yet completely unique to their own universes.

Universes where a version of his foster son welcomed him, and in some in which he was brought to him with a sword upon his neck, unbeknownst to them that he could simply disappear in the snap of his fingers.

There was a time when he thought he would die in this place. A Rivendell that was grander, created by not just Vilya but the power of the Eternal. Fueled by a Silmaril forged and growing inside her, the Elemmírë he was brought down and almost killed had appeared much like a Vala.

Until all things go too far and only the tragedy could stop the chaos that turned that timeline off the rails.

Maglor still couldn't believe what he saw. Finding Elemmírë dying whilst grasping her throat – blood staining her hands and face as she stared in horror at what the figure did to her. 

Or what had her brother done to her.

He curled his fingers, hand across the sides of his body as he took a deep breath. Elrond...his brothers...his parents...Illyria and her brother. He wondered how he hadn't lost his mind centuries ago.

And funny enough, one of them had to find him. 

Walking from behind him, he heard Ilmarë's child speak out loud. "I thought I would find you here. Your brothers have been looking for you."

Maglor carefully watched himself, sensing the half-Ainu standing beside him. When he turned to look up at his face, he kept his face neutral as he replied, "I think they have survived without me for a while."

He watched Glorfindel show some slight amusement before he settled to his neutral expression.

There was a silence between them.

Maglor, however, was prepared for the conversation they were about to discuss.

"You were the one who took me out. Nerdanel's spy."

He ignored the sort of accusing voice he had and answered him with a nod. "I am. I needed you to get out before the Valar would take you. Unless it would sabotage our mission I was not taking chances."

Glorfindel let out a staggering sigh as he made a grim note, "She was not supposed to know through Saruman about herself. Now it changes things."

Maglor peered in return. "What were you expecting, Laurefindelë? That she would live and then she'll know? Or were you expecting her to be recycled and turned back into what she truly is?

The half-Aini narrowed his gaze when he shot him a look, "I was attempting to spare her pain. Pain for all of us. For Elrond and his children. Her friends and family."

"She had to know. She's the key to this." Maglor murmured.

Glorfindel inhaled through his nostril as he replied harshly, "I know that. But you wish for her to leave? To find her path?"

He told him, his impatience growing thinner. "She must learn what she is capable of."

However, the Vanya-Noldo pressed on, questioning him sharper than before. "And if she succeeds, what will you do? She will not be kind when she discovers the truth of what she could possess."

They now faced one another, one glaring whilst the other stared with a blank expression.

"It is the right way," Maglor told him.

He asked, "The Valar's or your family's?"

Maglor refrained from narrowing his gaze, concerned now on why he would mention this. What did he know that he didn't? And why was he being so open at such a place such as this?

But the anger was aimed at him, and the wariness of his choices. Ever since Glorfindel told Illyria the truth, the ellon before him had tried all he could to reach out to his sister. He wanted to try and make up for all the secrecy and Maglor understood of it. But why would he lash out?

Unless...

He leaned towards him, hissing back, "I will not have you take her away. Risk her life—"

"She risked hers the moment you died. You know how it works. You lived through every moment her powers surged," Maglor narrowed his eyes.

Glorfindel snapped, "And that is why we cannot do this."

No. But none of them had a choice. Illyria had to know. She needed to try and find a way before the end of the world. Before their end.

Maglor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Afterwards, he muttered to himself, "I should have interfered in Angmar."

With eyes flashing in shock, Glorfindel gaped back. "She told you about Angmar? How much?"

"Enough," Maglor answered with a shaking head.

"I still cannot believe this is the right way."

Inhaling sharply, he spun his heels away. Glorfindel held the balcony railing, rolling on the balls of his feet as he shook his head – muttering.

Maglor cleared his throat and changed the subject, "Have they answered you?"

Glorfindel froze from his spot as he faced away from him. He answered blankly, "No. They haven't. But I shall let you know soon." He spun back and strode towards him, muttering back, "But I tell you this, Makalaurë. Your choice is reckless."

His gaze stared into his grey eyes.

Maglor didn't need to push through his mind what he wanted to know. Because despite Glorfindel and Illyria looking so much alike; whilst Illyria was open in her ideas, Glorfindel's façade was deeper than anyone could predict.

He remained placid, saying simply what Glorfindel wanted to hear. "It is her choice, Glorfindel. Not ours."

Glorfindel scowled before he turned away and disappeared into the house, leaving Maglor more suspicious than the first time he laid his eyes days ago.

The Balrog Slayer had lied. And Lokachari saw through the lie and wondered what was happening between the spies of them and the Ainur.

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Illyria Strange | The Eternal

Location: Rivendell, Middle Earth, Arda

Time: March 2981 T.A

The dreams were back again. 

She didn't tell Elrond (or maybe he already knew considering he didn't question the number of times she woke up – panting and sweating and blabbering about some fucking lamps and trees and flat planets), but he knew. His face and actions were evident enough, even when they were together or apart.

She loved him for everything he had done for her. Giving her the time he should be using to prepare for the war and plans on what was happening now. The hours he would stay to sleep with her because she of course was a little more mortal than him and needed more sleep than the people in this valley. How his arms encased her, humming a song to her that eased her to sleep.

It was something she never thought she would even find in her life. A life that was fighting and crawling her way through with blood, sweat and tears.

And here she was getting up from Elrond Peredhel's bed and having brekky with said Elrond Peredhel.

Forget all those boys and girls who tried to flirt with her all those years at school. She was living her own fucking version of all those romantic novels Darcy had stacked about in their cabin back in Georgia.

Well. Ignore the fact that she could kill him or some dark immortal assholes destroy them and maybe her story might actually be a happy ending.

But life always said fuck you to those with happy moments especially when all she thought about was the maps that were splayed over her laboratory and now held in her hand. After breakfast, she decided to help Miriel with some household things before heading into the city to help with some of the rebuilding. Thanks to magic, she helped with most of the heavy lifting and conjuring portals for the builders to pass equipment and materials.

She did not expect Thorin Oakenstubbornass to be actually helping out. Illyria literally rubbed her eyes when she found him, seeing him glare at her and mentally warning her that if she said anything he would kill her.

Oh, she missed that son of a gun. After a quick quip and insult to one another (which involved the rest of the elves warily looking at their lady of the valley and the former king of Erebor), they agreed to have dinner together sometime and catch up.

Illyria then walked back up, deciding to go up to the waterfall to meditate and practice, dodging several certain people she really didn't want to talk to.

One is Maglor, the other would be Glorfindel.

Maybe it was her monthly cycle with all this. Did Ainur have periods? Surely they don't, considering they all kind of popped out of Eru's mind. She wondered for a moment how Melian even gave birth to Lúthien. How the fuck did Glorfindel come into existence?

Thank Vishanti her STEM subject was physics and that was it. No biology and the issue of trying to know how spiritual babies were born at least assured Illyria.

Not that she was thinking about babies.

Children? At her age and the time they were in? Nope. She and Elrond would a hundred per cent agree that a child in the middle of a war was bad for one's mental health.

And between the two of them, Elrond would probably never let her go from his sight.

After her unsuccessful enlightenment and meditation, she tried to contact both Elladan and Elrohir through the Kimoyo beads. Unfortunately, none of them replied which made her huff in annoyance and mostly worry. She was sure they were close to Edoras already along with Halbarad and the rest of the rangers, no doubt Arwen and the Fellowship would greet them soon enough.

When she got back to the house she headed towards the family wing, maybe get some more work done and figure out what the heck her drawings meant. Nothing from her old journal spoke about the dreams, hinting that not even her old self wanted anyone to know.

Not even Elrond despite herself telling him about them.

She wanted to ask Maglor and Maedhros about it but that meant them prying about her dreams and then her health. She was fine for god's sake, not completely dying or a ghost to them. Those Fëanorians may be kinslayers but they were the worst as mother hens.

Illyria passed her way through one of the open corridors overlooking one of the gardens and noticed a small figure sitting at one of the garden tables. Her heart jumped and a smile crept up her face, speeding down the path.

Bilbo Baggins sat on the white ornate chair; his head focused on the pages of his red book. Beside him was a small bottle of ink, the quill resting between his fingers as he was writing down something. Probably the last parts of the famous story. The one that would pass onto one of the elves from Aman and tell the tale to a future human of Arda.

He noticed her presence immediately, the gentleness of his face forming a wide smile. 

He asked her, "Penny for your thoughts?"

Illyria smiled, replying in the same tone: "If you have a cheque that'll be great."

"Come sit down," Bilbo ushered the empty chair opposite him, he placed his quill down as he gestured to the burnt marks on the leather covers. Some of the parchments were black and burnt. "I was just about almost done with this. Until the fires broke out."

She made a soured expression when she noticed them. Illyria spoke, "Oh shit, I'm sorry." She said with a sympathetic tone, "I know you loved this book."

"Do you know any spells?" Bilbo asked curiously.

Illyria shook her head, "If I had a spare Time Stone lying about in a cabinet drawer I could." She realised she had bothered him, panicking slightly before she ushered back, "But believe me, don't stop writing. I know it's probably good so far."

She hoped that her encouragement would allow him to continue. Because all in all, Bilbo Baggins's passions were adventures, going on them and telling them. She saw Bilbo's face soften at her remark, smiling back in response. "Thank you, Illyria." He then asked her, "Now, do tell me what is wrong?"

She huffed.

God where to begin? Illyria casually stated, "My children are far away, Elrond's having Maglor issues along with me and every Fëanorian here. As for me, I'm having identity issues and my brother has been lying to me since I was born."

She opened the scroll that she conjured from her hand, laying it out before the space on the table.

"I also can't decipher what this map is telling me." Illyria made a popping sound with her mouth as she added, "So yeah, quite a lot really."

Bilbo kept his eyes trained on her, looking a little surprised before he adjusted his tie. "My..." He coughed, "Well I can't exactly solve your relationship problems, but I can assure you that I can help with this. Allow me."

"Here," She gestured, rotating it to his side for him to inspect it.

Bilbo eyed the map. Lines were crossing one another within a curved grid, with dots at each node all drawn in ink.

She had seen constellation maps before and could easily read the ones from Earth. But her degree was solely to do with cosmic background energy and radiation, not map-making and reading astronomy at such a (no offence) pre-historical level.

Hearing Bilbo hum, she eyed the hobbit as he cleared his throat, "Well...may this just be a theory. But the map for Erebor - it used moonlight." He pointed at the parchment, suggesting: "Perhaps as this was what you created; you had used your magic."

Illyria's jaw went loose.

"You...fucking heck." She stared back at him, "You know you're brilliant, right?"

As she turned the page around, she heard Bilbo chuckle to himself as he spoke, "Somehow elves and sorcerers are baffled at what I can simply see."

She grinned back at him, her anticipation literally making her tap her feet as she held the map in her hands. "Oh you know you're more than that, Bilbo Baggins." With a few seconds, she allowed her energy to flow through her hands – letting a string of light coarse through her and onto the page.

The lines upon the map began to glow, forcing more things to appear upon the empty brown surface.

More began to appear until she recognized it now to be what she speculated. Illyria breathed in, "Woah...look. It is a star map."

"Yes...but it's wrong. It's upside down," Bilbo murmured, standing up to move to her side.

She eyed him, "Upside down?" Illyria made a face that probably had people wondering if Bilbo Baggins had into human size.

He nodded, his eyes trained on the new letter and words written in Tengwar. "Yes...and the only way it could possibly be like that is..."

"If you're in one end," Illyria finished, their eyes meeting simultaneously. "Also meaning the southern part of the planet."

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She burst through the doors, entering Elrond's study after she had run across the entire house. She probably looked cray as always, her hand tight on the scroll of parchment and literally forgetting she could have just portaled her way through.

But her excitement couldn't be stopped. Illyria just couldn't believe what Bilbo had done and cursed whoever thought to underestimate her hobbit bestie.

The timing couldn't have been more ironic when she not only found Elrond in his study but Maedhros and Maglor as well. Her breath slowed as she froze, wondering what the hell this meeting was about. And by how their heads were looking back at her with different shades of guilt it must have been about her.

But forget that for the moment, Illyria strode across in quick steps and told them what Bilbo found. 

"Bilbo solved it!" She grinned, placing the map down to show the three. The lines began to glow as the rest of the map was drawn out from her light. "It's the southern hemisphere of Arda when it had turned into a sphere. I must have drawn it to see the future. Before you know, flat earth turned round and grew a waist and all."

Elrond furrowed his eyebrows, "What is there in the south? Nothing more than just empty land." He said to them, "The Númenóreans were not even able to explore the majority of it during their times of exploration."

"No...there is something there."

Her eyes turned to the supposed beach-turned-multiverse cryptid. Maglor appeared so much better now, cleaner, and less of a hobo. Thank the stylish robes he wore plus the charm whenever he tried to speak.

Not as alluring as Elrond's voice though.

Maglor told them, "I have been meaning to venture there but I have been able to do so."

She peered back as she questioned, "Why?"

"Because I have attempted to go as far south as I could. I almost died trying to find whatever Lúthien told me about," He spoke.

Illyria widened her eyes. She forgot for a second that Maglor was Lokachari, which meant...

"Lúthien? How did you meet her?" Elrond asked in disbelief.

Her first glance was as Maedhros, who was the first one who had actually learnt about what she and Finneas discovered in America. And why she had a bunch of photocopies lying about in her dimensional pocket of poorly excused translations of the journal Elrond's descendant had written in. "Maglor met Tolkien." She slowly answered, "A.k.a..."

"You, therefore, wrote our lives to another universe," Maedhros exasperated, looking as if he was refraining to splay his hand and facepalming at what had just been saying. "Brother, why?"

The sorcerer who stood quite apart from them replied, "Because I was doing what Illyria had been doing the past centuries, and that is finding out the reincarnated mortals and souls passing through Ea." Maglor glanced back at the map as he continued, "She said that there is something there. That it will help us against Morgoth and Sauron. That it will aid you, Illyria."

When his eyes glossed over him, she gave him a blank expression. "Right," Illyria slapped the map and sighed: "But I can't read this. Even if it's similar to the astronomy maps we have on Earth, it's far from what you guys have here."

If this place was beyond the lands of the known world of Middle Earth, they would have to find some way to even get there. And navigating it would probably be their one-way ticket to Namo's nightclub for the dead. With free cocktails and all that jazz.

Elrond cut the silent pondering of them all with a response, "No...but as you said, Illyria: Master Baggins can."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"No!" Thorin growled at her, "I will refuse to have you take my husband down to Harad!"

So much of that dinner invitation. 

When the son of Durin was pissed, he was like pissed.

Dude could probably move mountains with how angry he was, probably trying to find a way to blame the elves and not her just because of the sake of his husband liking her too much. Not to mention the fact that she did save his sorry ass against Azog a few years back.

Honestly, a little quest into the unknown wasn't that bad. Illyria watched Frozen 2 and honestly Elsa looked happy and gay as fuck after almost dying and her home almost getting destroyed up until she had to save it.

What was wrong with bringing a hobbit with them?

Illyria placed her hands on her hips and raised a brow, "Oh now you're protective of the burglar?" She sighed, assuring him again: "Come on Thorin, Maglor and I can protect him."

Thorin eyed Maglor, scowling at him. Maglor was not helping the situation with how mysterious with his robes and blank face. 

The dwarf grumbled, "I do not trust whatever your...quest is."

With a sigh, the hobbit in Elrond's study finally spoke, "Thorin." He placed a hand on Thorin's arm, glancing up at his husband and saying quietly. "I can take care of myself."

Thorin's eyes were pained. She knew both Elrond and he would probably be on the same page now, knowing that they were the two who least wanted either her or Bilbo to join Maglor on this journey. But whatever is south and those dreams, she was certain it meant something. Maybe something that could help them find a way to resolve this all.

And maybe stop the Noldor from being removed from existence.

Illyria gulped, breathing in as she stated rather clearly to the dwarven king: "I pinky promise you that Bilbo will be portaled if things get really bad."

Thorin demanded up to her, "Swear on it, then."

She didn't need to look at all the elves in the room at how tensed and horrified they were.

Yeah...they all knew how wrong that went.

Illyria finalized to him, "No swearing. The last time some guys swore an oath, they all died so no thanks." She calmed herself, nodding curtly to both the former kings with sincerity. "I promise on it, Thorin. To protect Bilbo Baggins no matter what during our quest south." 

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A/N: I realised I haven't updated so here it is. I thought this chapter just felt needed and seeing it in the eyes of Elrond and watching the Feanorians interact just made it better to understand it all. Elrond just wants everyone to get along. :(

Also, we get more Bilbo and Thorin. Because who wouldn't. And if you're wondering, hey: Bilbo is pretty old right? Well, considering he's held the Ring his life has extended more than it should.

Not to mention that this is almost 40 years before actual canon, he's only in his late adult years (so he would be around in his 40s or 50s at human years), he still got that energy to travel. Also he's Bilbo: he ain't backing down from an opportunity to explore a new world...even when pissing off his husband.

If I don't update next week, it's probably because I'm on a mission to finally finish Part 3 (yes I'm ahead by a lot, which is good) or I'm playing Sims 4.

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Edited: 08/11/2022