6 | Getting a Selfie with The Balrog Slayer

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Location: Imladris, Middle Earth

Time: May 2941 T.A

She did not like to be back in square one.

Most of the time, it was her dad being knocked out by some enemy or dark creature or object – not her who was now waking up to find herself floating on the softest cloud ever. (If clouds were ever physically able to carry one's weight, which she knew isn't possible on Earth...yet. Even then, this cloud was amazing to Illyria's view.)

However, thinking she was waking up from the most realistic dream and finding her dad by her side was then lost in hope when an unfamiliar face looked over her own.

The person somehow glowed, an odd line of light that shone from their skin, framing their thin face and light brown hair. They wore a long flowing dress along with long sleeves that hugged her arms, cut to cover her wrists.

"I am pleased that you are awake, my lady." They – the woman – spoke to her, a song-like voice in her head.

Illyria was surprised to hear someone other than Gandalf or Bilbo speak in the same tongue as her. However, their pronunciation was a little different from what the other two spoke. They were clear and concise, with most of her thoughts openly dancing at the tip of her tongue. The woman's mind was open like a book, giving her a sense of solitude that even Illyria wondered if she knew what she was doing. How her magical aura kept her in peace.

Realising how close the woman had been, her eyes wandered over to the side and paused. Tucked behind their glossy hair was in fact a pair of pointed-end ears.

She was an elf. Illyria was with the elves.

Wait, how the heck did she get here? The last thing she remembered was fighting those green-grey sickly monsters with the poorest leather clothing.

Shuffling to get up with her hands, she leaned back to the headboard of the bed and questioned, "Where...where am I?" She could feel her body shake off the nerves that were growing. "Who are you? Where's Bilbo, Gandalf? Why am I in bed?"

Her breaths quicken, panic ceasing to make her concentrate. What day was it? How long was she out for? And what happened that made her get her here? Who was this elf and why does she look like an angel that might as well tell her she was to birth the messiah? (She needed to stop staring at the elf, Illyria could sense her comfort dwindling). [1]

Instead, a hand pressed onto her own. She glanced back at the elf and clamped her mouth shut.

"You are in Imladris, my lady. Please do not panic." The elf said gently, which made Illyria feel impressed at how calm and collected this elf was with her – whereas Illyria was absolutely running around in circles in her head.

The usual response of a normally functioning person would be a simple thank you. But Illyria Strange would say she was functioning normally to some extent, hence why the sarcasm began to seep through her voice.

She answered back, "I would but I just...I need to go find my friend. Argh!" As she got up, she felt another pang ring, her hand quickly lifting to her head. She groaned, "My head. Did I get hit by a bus or something?"

Maybe she was exaggerating; it didn't feel like a bus hitting her – more like a Vespa. She can imagine that easily: an ugly ass orc riding a hot pink Moped down the fields of the wilderness. It might even have a cute horn if they wanted to, unlike those old-school cornucopia-shaped ones that Boromir carried around with him in the duration of the fellowship. [2]

Whilst she had no choice but to follow Miriel's rather strict instruction to stay put, the lady elf wandered about the room to put away several trays of cups and bowls. She immediately felt rather worried by them, deducing that she had been out much longer than she anticipated.

She really hoped Bilbo was not stressing out because of her, the poor hobbit looked too dashing to get grey hairs already – and Thorin had enough in his beard for the both of them.

Just before the elf left, she placed a steaming cup of tea on the bedside table. "I suggest you lay your head to rest, my lady." Miriel sternly spoke, "And drink; I will inform the lord you are awake."

'The Lord?' Illyria thought. 'Like our Lord and Savior sort or...ohhhh...' She repressed the laughter of her own ideas, clearing her throat instead before Miriel could ask why. Illyria was not ready to discuss the various religions back in her world to elves who were ten times her age.

She thanked the elf once more and decided to lay back down on the bed. Though once her head hit the pillow, Illyria shuffled her body around. With the mix of aches in her muscles and some blisters in her feet, she noticed something again. These were not the clothes she wore and not the ones Halfast Gamgee gave her for their journey.

Not only that, but they were also thin. Really thin. Like 'filo pastry' thin that if she didn't have the cream-coloured blanket over a body, Illyria might as well be wearing saran wrap. She's seen her fair share of Met Gala outfits on the internet, and she wouldn't be surprised if someone arrived in a dress made out of saran wrap in Anna Wintour's approval. [3][4][5]

As her cheeks grew warm, she then butted in, "Um, could I be able to get my clothes?" She sheepishly mentioned, "Please. I feel rather exposed."

Miriel's mind quickly jumped, hurriedly heading to the far side of the large room, and brought out several items of clothing. Whilst she busied herself, Illyria wasn't going to be lazy (as much as she wanted to be pampered right now with the elves) and began to stand up from her position.

Her legs wobbled slightly, trying to adjust with her feet. Though once she felt stable, Miriel passed her something that seemed to be a dress. Illyria refrained from making a face the moment she saw the style which was rather exposing to her chest.

Alright. It wasn't that she was against these sorts of dresses: but long flowing dresses won't exactly aid her in a fight when she's firstly battling against her own garments.

However, Miriel had been too kind already: speaking about how the colours suited her complexion and that the length was reasonable for her height. Illyria thanked her anyways and began putting it on.

Honestly, this dress could probably match the difficulty of the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak. [6] It was one of her favourite stories to hear about since her dad returned from his mission with Uncle Wong against Kaecilius. That relic was extremely dangerous, and her dad had to find space in the basement of the sanctum to hide it from her when she was much younger.

Do not get her started on the basement: that was a death maze of its own.

Miriel noticed her struggling and offered, "Oh of course, here. I will help-"

She waved her hand as a gesture, "Don't worry, go get your lord. I can do it." She could sense some hesitation in the elf and Illyria assured her, "Don't worry...Miriel."

"You know my name?"

Crap.

Did she say her name aloud? Illyria could not exactly help it. Despite how kind this elf was; she still took some liberty to make sure if the elf was telling the truth. Sieving through Miriel's mind wasn't difficult, perhaps a little harder than Bilbo or the dwarves, but it hardly matched the fortress Gandalf had for his mind.

If Gandalf's mind was Area 51, she wondered if a Vala's mind was equivalent to Fort Knox. [7][8]

To remove the awkward tension, she gave the elf a kind grin, joking slightly. "You were bursting to ask." It was her turn to introduce herself as she added, "I'm Illyria by the way."

Finally, she got the dress on somehow – the deep curve of the neckline showing very well her pale skin.

Before she left the room, she answered, "Well met, my lady."

Miriel looked at her with a glint of happiness...and honour? The elf enthusiastically bowed her head and said, "I'll go inform him as well as your companions."

Soon as the door shut behind Miriel, Illyria blew out the breath she held and sagged her shoulders – finally relaxing on her own. Once she sensed their footsteps grow further away, her eyes darted over to the wardrobe on the left-hand side of the room and walked over.

It was like a mother seeing her baby as Illyria discovered her clothes hanging on the rack as well as all her boots just below it. They all appeared to have been cleaned, seeing no more bloodstains or rips from the shimmering armour.

Illyria curled her fingers over the robes and leaned over, taking a little sniff of the scent. It smelt like lavender, or perhaps jasmine? She wasn't sure. Darcy usually was the one that cleaned all her clothes back when she used to live with the astrophysicist. (And after discovering the cleaning spells from her classes, their washing machine was pretty lonely from then on. Rest in peace washing machine.)

Amongst her own belongings were other items of clothing, a little simpler than her modern/sorcerer robes. So, she grabbed the tunic and leggings tucked at the back of the wardrobe and did her version of a fashion show – in which she was the model and the designer and achingly having to put it over her body.

God, why was her body so drained? Oh yes, she had decided to fight a scout of orcs and used all her energy to get them down. Now her entire body was like jelly.

Once she had her belt and robes over her tunic, she rubbed her hands together and felt her hand bare. It took a double-take to realise that her sling ring was missing.

Whoever took her ring, she's going to have some words.

And not the good type of words.

Her entire anger almost washed over her, turning into almost panic and stress as she paced around the room in her astral form. Illyria's body needed rest, her eyes glancing back to her physical form laid out on the bed – which wasn't creepy at all.

Though just as she was about to explore what was beyond the room she was put in, the door opened.

With a gasp, she flew back towards her body and woke herself up, flexing her fingers and adjusting her eyesight just as the figure appeared from her sight. Standing up from the bed, she noticed herself still barefoot. Illyria hoped Lord Elrond did not mind it. She remembered what the elven lord was like in both the books and the movies, almost seemingly intrigued by his character.

Though, as she turned around to face them: she hadn't expected to feel her breath blown away.

In front of her was indeed Elrond Peredhel, but much younger than the actor who represented him. What even irked her more, that she recognized those grey eyes when she was back out in the field.

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Elrond Peredhel was not always easily alarmed. [9]

He had millenniums of experience in his life to not be knocked off his feet from surprises. His own sons' antics and pranks causing him to mentally lose a brain cell would probably be the only thing that had kept him on his toes, as well as the usual wandering Ithron coming to and from Imladris.

However, he might as well be dreaming right now.

He was not seeing a ghost. This was truly her.

She wore her hair the same as before, a simple tight braid down her back. She was the same height, perhaps slightly shorter with her long-rounded face looking up to her at a small angle. It was her face that blew him away. Exactly the same; with those blue eyes which reminded him of the sea beyond the west, still sparkling. Prominent cheekbones that used to crease whenever she grinned or smiled.

Though whilst he saw the same features, he could tell others were different. One thing that caught his eye was her aura, which felt more like a comforting warmth washing over his skin in comparison to the outburst of energy that he once remembered sensing ever since their first meeting. So instead of a large glow over her, there was hardly a light that covered her – shocking him how controlled she was with the same power he had known to be uncontrolled with.

And the next feature that threw him back was her ears.

They were rounded. Not like his softer-pointed ears. No. They were the same as the ones his adopted son had. Ears that belonged to the race of man.

That couldn't be possible.

But then again, Elrond was seeing her physically there. Not in a dream or some façade.

Mithrandir's voice then echoed in his head.

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"She is not the one you knew before, Elrond Peredhel." The Ithron [10] told him after he had tended to the woman's injuries. "She may look like her, but she is not from this world. For what she can do – what you have seen of the extent of her powers – is unlike the powers she once had."

"She bears the same power, however." He told him, rubbing his hand on his temples. "Then how do I approach her if I am to see her face?"

Mithrandir said with remorse, "You must be careful what you all say." He added, "I believe there is still something there that is left of her. But it is dormant, constantly bursting in moments when she speaks of certain words."

"Like what?" Elrond asked, peering his eyes where the Ithron was.

"The jewels."

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Right then, he was still shaken after discovering her on the outskirts of the valley.

She had been surrounded by orcs and wargs with only an outcrop of rock protecting her back. At first, he had been notified of the scout of orcs closing into their borders. The twins were busy keeping his youngest son occupied whilst Glorfindel informed him.

Though it was right before the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower informed him of sightings that a vision struck him. It was brief and blurry, and he couldn't get a glimpse of the figure's face as they fought side by side in an odd landscape. The place was even odder, with multiple sceneries reflecting each other like a mirror. The enemies before them appeared to look from the race of men, creating these golden circles – beautiful yet terrifying.

However, his visions stopped as another surge of force pulled him away.

More specifically, it had been the pull of his ring: Vilya, that told him that something (or someone) had breached the borders of the valley, just beyond the Fords of Bruinen in the moorlands. The last time something brought such strength was the dark forces from Angmar. [11] [12]

Those were times he had long forgotten because it had been nine hundred and sixty-six years since the end of the war in Arnor – but what he had lost from that fateful day. [13]

He equipped himself with armour, insisting to carry the scout on his own in place of Glorfindel. After his friend accepted, he climbed on his horse in search of the orc scout.

Closer and closer, he could sense the familiar force of energy grow. He unsheathed his sword the moment he heard the howl of a warg, ordering the guards to begin surrounding the scout to where they concentrated. Elrond assumed the worse, with a large pack presumably hunting some men of the Dunedain heading to Imladris. [14]

Instead, it was a figure fighting around them, producing these patterned circles that glowed in the air. With what seemed to be a staff in her hand, she waved them across to slice the orc's stomach as the other end jab at an oncoming sword. He ordered for them to charge, swiping the warg's head off as he rode closer to the magic user.

Almost all the orcs and wargs were slain but one. It had almost taken the person's head hadn't he rushed to the side and killed it in his own hands, the scent of orc blood reeked his nose. But spotting that face almost drained the colour of his.

Despite how shocked he had been, Elrond caught her in time and began to murmur into her ear. She could sense her powers draining, her eyes rolling back as she laid limp in his arms.

It was like seeing her once more. Why the Valar cursed him to find her again in the same situation as before. He didn't know.

This time, he did all he could. He took her and saddled her onto his horse, sprinting off to reach the healing halls. Elrond needed to try. He would not lose her again. Not this time when he knew their time in Middle Earth was almost done.

And here he was in the present, seeing her awake and...young. Not in terms of her face. Yes, she looked around the age she once was. But her eyes: they seemed to flicker from almost an ageless figure to a young elfling.

No, not elfling – a child of man.

They must have been staring at each other for a long time as it took him a moment to notice her mouth moving. She was standing rather awkwardly, wearing the peculiar burgundy robes she wore back outside the valley. But underneath them was a tunic paired with dark brown leggings.

Elrond's eye wandered down to her feet which were bare. Had he accidentally entered the room whilst she had been changing?

"Sorry, I was asleep, and I didn't have time to put some shoes on." She sheepishly said, smiling slightly.

Even her voice was the same as hers.

He mentally shook the thought aside, plastering a polite smile back as he said, "No need." How was he supposed to approach her? Elrond carefully said, "I am glad you are awake..."

Had he remembered he didn't know her name was his terrible mistake. Actually: no. In fact, he should blame Mithrandir for never mentioning her name at all.

Luckily, she realised what he intended, answering him: "Oh, Illyria Strange." She continued, "It's a pleasure to meet you...?"

At the mention of her name, it immediately faltered his thought process and quickly forgotten who he was talking to. "El- Lord Elrond," As he slipped up, he rushed out hurriedly his title.

Oh Elbereth, he was clearly going to get a look from Erestor and Glorfindel after this.

Her eyes almost sparkled with amusement, barely hiding her grin as she raised an eyebrow. "El Lord Elrond? Please say it isn't Spanish," She quipped.

First things first, he did not know what this 'Spanish' was (perhaps it was some title or word from where she came from). Secondly, if his brother knew that he was acting like this: Elros would be laughing at him.

He cleared his voice, saying once more in a calmer tone, "Lord Elrond. I am Lord Elrond." He added, "That was what I was meant to say."

Elrond then saw her grin, and his chest swelled in longing.

But he yet to remember again: that this was not her. Illyria Strange was obviously her own person, with the appearance and voice likeness to hers (with a rather odd name to choose and it surprised him that her translation had not been in Sindarin but Quenya). But she was not her.

Even despite how similar she took her own quips, nodding her head as she rolled over the balls of her feet. "Well, Lord Elrond. It's an honour to meet you." Illyria spoke guiltily. "Probably not in these circumstances but then again I'm not for one for entrances."

Elrond slowly came to feel comforted by her own way of speaking, chuckling along, "Likewise, my lady." He might as well admit his own mistake stumbling out his greeting. His own name as well!

Then his own healer instinct brought him to concern. "How are you?"

Even as the Lord of Imladris, he was also an experienced healer. His own concerning nature and wilful mind to make sure others were fine first than his own caused many to feel a little constricted by his choices. He did was he could to treat those in need first then his own self.

"A bit lightheaded." She said truthfully, rubbing the side of her head. "I may have used too much of my energy out there. Travelling doesn't give the luxuries of sleep if I'm honest with you."

'Ah yes, I forgot you've been travelling with dwarves, a hobbit and Mithrandir.' Elrond wanted to frown at that thought, disdained that how even a woman of man decided to go on some odd trek with a group of the likes of Thorin Oakenshield.

Perhaps there will be more to reveal later this evening about it.

He hinted at this by suggesting to her, "Some food and drink will help you." Elrond then mentioned, "But I believe your friend has been waiting."

Illyria's eyes lit up; a small wave of energy fluttered around him causing him to inhale sharply. Thankfully, Illyria had not noticed Elrond's reaction to her own. Did the energy not affect her at all?

There was an awkward pause where they weren't sure what to say, and he blamed himself for bringing the odd end of the conversation. She seemed rather concerned, a mix of guilt as he told her that several of the dwarves almost broke into her room whilst he was healing her injuries. Elrond dismissed the apology, knowing himself that he would do the same if any of his friends or children were hurt.

"Oh, um. Thank you." Illyria's voice became serious, clearing her throat as she continued, "For that."

"No need," Elrond replied, assuming it had been to do with informing her about her companions.

However, she shook her and clarified. "No, no. Thank you for saving me there." Illyria said sincerely, gesturing out of the window as she continued, "I must have looked like a madwoman single handily defeated those creatures. If you hadn't arrived on time, my friends would have been shot and gutted when they figured out the entrance to the valley."

Elrond could feel his heart thump against his chest, his lips forming a small smile. "You do not need to thank me," He then added along, "I was... impressed."

"By what you meant impressed; you mean horrified?" She raised an eyebrow, before setting herself to sit at the edge of the bed. "Also, you did decapitate that orc."

Elrond's lips twitched, and he could not help but reply in a sarcastic tone, "My apologies then, I will try not to get orc blood on you next time."

There again, another chuckle left her lips and Elrond was practically on the verge of stomping propriety out of the question and finally breakdown.

There goes his heart again, cracking whilst simultaneously being revived.

But nope, he was going to take this in small steps. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her away with everything and then realising that Illyria Strange wasn't the elf he knew years ago.

His thoughts were then cut as her voice turned with a tint of nervousness.

"Oh uh, bag. My stuff." She questioned, glancing back up at him. "Did you happen to see a ring anywhere? I was wearing it."

Notifying him, he slipped his hand into his pocket and picked up the object mentioned and held it to her. It was an odd sort of ring, with two bands for two fingers to slip through whilst they were joined together by a rectangular metal design. He didn't have the time to study the object (and also the fact that he felt like he was intruding on her own privacy), but he spotted the small engravings of what seemed to be scripture at the surface.

Once he returned it into her hands, she slipped it on the first and middle finger of her right hand. Elrond answered as he watched her do this, "Yes, I must apologise. I had asked Miriel to remove it when we were checking for injuries."

"Thank you." She responded, "I can lose everything else, but this is very precious of me."

He was eyeing the ring in question, a feeling of worry falling in step. Was the ring much like Vilya? Did it provide her with the same power which she showed when she fought those orcs out there? When he took it off her hand whilst she was unconscious, there was no sense of power lingering around it. Perhaps it was from somebody she knew – a gift.

That gave him a little jerk back from his thoughts, explaining how he found her bag that had been hiding under the bed. "We were able to retrieve most of your belongings and weapons from your horse who arrived just in time when we returned."

Illyria's hand flew to her mouth, speaking with relief in her tone. "Oh, thank god, I thought she was a goner." She quietened her voice before she asked, "Might I be able to see her sometime?"

He nodded, but then mentioning. "Of course, though one of your friends are currently waiting for you down the corridor. There will be a welcome dinner as well."

"Thank you again, Lord Elrond." Illyria piped once more.

Bowing their heads down, Elrond took this time to exit. His heart had wanted to stay, but he knew he was intruding right now. He would have to patient.

He would make himself wait another decade if he had to.

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He couldn't concentrate during dinner.

One: was because of the dwarven company destroying most of the food at the other table.

Two: This was because of the figure that sat beside Mithrandir.

Three: was because that person beside Mithrandir was not exactly enjoying the spectacle the dwarves were doing.

Elrond wished this were not the turn of events and perhaps might have brought either Glorfindel or the twins with them. Instead, he made sure the twins were far from Illyria Strange's eyesight. The worst-case scenario, which he didn't want to hear, was his sons seeing the familiar face and breaking down into either denial or happiness – all including with tears.

He was not going to imagine how Glorfindel was to react to her presence. The older elf would perhaps never let Illyria Strange leave his sight ever again.

Mithrandir saw Illyria's discomfort in the meal and changed the subject at hand to the swords which they found. Elrond was surprised to find the two swords still intact and sharp, knowing that they from the First Age – specifically Gondolin. [15] The name of the city rung in his ears, his eyes wandering slightly to Illyria who was studying the inscriptions on Glamdring. But how her eyebrows didn't furrow made him deduce she had understood the Gondolinic runes. [16]

That was peculiar. If she was able to read them, it was a possibility that she was remembering her past. Though, this clashed with his notion as to the reason Illyria Strange could only speak in elvish. More specifically, Sindarin and Quenya.

It would seem Mithrandir had been hiding the truth to Illyria's talents of changing to and from the two languages. Elrond would need to ask further about this.

However, his attention was now focused on the dwarven king himself.

And why Thorin Oakenshield brought a hobbit and Illyria Strange with him.

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She could not really believe it again.

She was here, in Imladris, also known as Rivendell. Though that name was harder to speak in Westron, so she resolved to use the Sindarin name instead for the foreseeable future.

After the very awkward dinner affair that had food was thrown about and dwarves dancing upon tabletops, she excused herself and decided to head back to her room. She could have used her sling-ring but a little voice that sounded too much like Uncle Wong told her again that – and in the voice of Boromir – 'one does not simply use magic to get to places.'

If Uncle Wong told her that she could not use her portal to go to Mordor, she might as well riot. [17]

Okay, maybe she was being over the top again.

Again, Uncle Wong and his rules. No matter the older she got, Illyria would somehow herself up to stick to them.

Thankfully, she found her room, which resided in the east wing of the large house. At such a size, it should be stated as a mansion instead (but Illyria didn't think they had mansions in Middle Earth) and it's not because she was totally about to give up finding her after the third dead end. Once she was in, she collapsed in her bed – boots and outer robes still on as she shut her eyes and finally succumbed to sleep once more. She can astral project another time, but right now: the sorceress decided a few hours of sleep for her mind would not harm her.

That was why she was up just before sunrise, excited to explore the city in the valley. Her first agenda was food, and Illyria was perhaps a little too intimidated to venture the kitchens just yet to take one.

It only took ten hours later to break Uncle Wong's rule of using magic, no big deal. Her defence if he does discover what she did was that she was probably going to be in the outlines of an unknown location and she needed sustenance.

After memorising the location of the kitchen with her astral projection and several small portals later: Illyria Strange was happily skipping over the bridge with an iced bun in one hand and a bag of apples in the other. She couldn't deny though, elven food was the good shit. If she somehow was able to return here, she needed to remember to bring a cookbook with her.

Or a tablet.

Illyria could imagine introducing the elves to the internet, learning recipes on YouTube to finding different DIY videos on braiding techniques. Perhaps they would like to learn about the stars from an astrophysicist? Though from her knowledge of the lore in this world, one of them was in fact a star so that might not easily sway them to her side of science. [18]

Anyways, the reason why she was off so early was that Illyria promised to visit Nala.

Miriel had given her a set of directions after bumping into the elven lady on her way out. She was slightly surprised when she saw her with the food, as Miriel herself was just in the kitchens to get some food herself. That was a rather awkward affair to dodge, which involved Illyria saying that she didn't see her.

Thank fuck Miriel brushed it off.

Once she arrived at what seemed to be a large establishment of different buildings, she realised now how dumb she was. There was about over a dozen of horses here; how was she to distinguished which one was hers? That led her to wander to the nearest stables, slowly going about to inspect every horse until she spotted someone down at the other end of the stables.

'Maybe he knows where Nala is?' She wondered and inhaled before then striding towards the blonde elf.

He was currently invested in grooming the beautiful white horse behind the pen...and talking to them.

Huh, so she wasn't the only crazy one that can understand horse language.

Clearing her throat, she greeted them. "Hey. Hi."

Their body grew tense, almost frozen before they spun around and looked down at her.

It was there she sensed something pang at the back of her head, a strange familiarity when she found her eyes staring up at his. Speaking of familiarity, this dude strangely almost looked at her. No, no. Not just because of the blonde hair, but his face was similar. Well, his face was more chiselled and defined by his jaw. His nose was a little bit more pointed than hers and obviously: pointy ears.

Not going to lie, if this elf was her doppelganger Illyria would not mind at all.

It took the elf a moment to then shake himself back to reality, faltering his voice as he spoke, "Good day, my lady. You must be the human wizard many have been speaking about."

She raised an eyebrow at that. Yes, it was not a secret around here that word about her and the Company are here. People were constantly talking about it like it was some episode of Gossip Girl she was reliving whilst their minds were always questioning her face. But not all opinions were nice. [19]

In fact, was along the lines of ghosts.

Illyria rolled her eyes, commenting. "And so, I've heard." She then changed the subject, introducing herself. "Illyria Strange."

"Laurefi- Glorfindel." The elf responded, shifting his feet a little.

Her eyes flashed back at him. Did she hear that right?

"Wait, you're Glorfindel?" She gaped at him.

Her doppelganger was Glorfindel. Oh, Darcy was going to flip when she hears about this. She won't hear the end of it, but she didn't care.

"You have heard of me?" He questioned, raising his own eyebrow.

Okay, how was she going to explain this? 'Oh hi, I am a big fan of your character even though you're hardly in the books. But what you did almost shocked me and probably questioned my guardian's relationship with other men such as my dad.' Illyria thought and immediately scratched that off her mind.

She really hoped he couldn't read her mind, quickly putting a barrier around herself.

"Not in the way you expect." Illyria quickly explained, "I've heard your stories. My...guardian loves you. And I mean, if my father didn't exist, she would practically fall head over heels for you."

Illyria was not wrong. Darcy's taste in partners varied (which was a really awkward conversation when she first started high school already) whilst hers seemed to stick to men with dark hair and grey eyes.

The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower looked amused by the comment, replying. "Well, at least my name has some meaning in other realms." His tone then turned to curiosity, asking her. "Say, why are you here?"

"Looking for..." Illyria didn't even finish her sentence as her eyes found her girl right away.

Nala quickly recognised her, dipping her head into her arms as Illyria hugged her friend close. Taking it from her bag, she gave her equestrian friend the apple who was now happily munching on it with glee.

At the same time, Illyria found Glorfindel approaching them. He peered his eyes to Nala, gesturing back: "You have a very loyal friend. I found her just at the borders of the valleys when I waited for the scouting party to return." He then glanced at her and added, "How she managed to know where to go is a surprise."

"You're not the only one," Illyria admitted, and took another apple from the bag. The horse just continued eating the other. "Nala's just special, you know. Right, girl?"

There was just the sound of a crunch.

Yup, special alright.

"She is also the one who eats the most apples," Glorfindel informed her, glancing over to the white horse he was grooming. "And I thought Asfaloth ate a lot."

The famous horse seemed to understand what his rider said, snuffing back at the elf before trotting around.

Illyria pretended to be offended, huffing to him. "Hey, I think she deserves them after the stunt Gandalf made us do."

Glorfindel held a smirk, drawling out. "Yes..." He continued, "Mithrandir has a way of surprising the Lord of Imladris."

A grin formed on her face and she couldn't help to reveal some more gossip about what occurred over dinner. Or what exactly happened afterwards. How did she know this? Well, let's just say she could sense Gandalf's mood this morning when she found him off towards the library, muttering about 'elven lords and their stubbornness as well.'

Illyria spoke, "Oh, they were pretty much on a heated argument after dinner. I was glad Bofur lightened the mood." Her voice changed in tone, shifting her own feet now, "Say Glorfindel. Um, would you care to show me the way back?"

After they tended to their horses, Illyria followed the elf out into the stable courtyard. The elf in question was several inches taller than her (maybe even taller than Dad if she remembered) and managed to out-stride her with his long-ass legs. Seriously, she was going to be out of breath if this was called a gentle walk.

Maybe she really needed to go to the gym when she comes back to Oxford. Hopefully, there was still a student discount when she comes back.

"You managed to get here." He tilted his head to his right, looking at her and smirked. "Unless you forgot?"

Somehow the floor looked a little nicer. "Maybe," She quietly said.

What she earned was a laugh that could match a song, he gestured for her to follow as he answered her: "Very well. I think we can take the long way back."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Before she had stumbled into Middle Earth and had a pony scare her to death, she had been in the mountains. The Alps more specifically. The reason for her little trip to the snowy caps of Austria was actually not involving Mordo and his rogue sorcerers. Actually: she was there to do her research.

A year ago, she had applied for a place to do her doctorate: luckily getting an offer from Oxford University to study anomalies of background radiation on earth and its history. A year later along with all of the fiasco occurring to her family, she removed herself from the chaos of what the superhero world had and settled to return to what she loved. It was this research that caused her to notice several anomalies concentrating in the Alps in the past few decades.

How no one noticed baffled her.

Well, there was the purple alien grape that came down to earth and ripped her away from her dad as well as the aftermath of it. But clearly, there were anomalies already occurring before the courses of Thanos.

Then there was the convergence that happened almost over a decade ago. Darcy had spoken of that tale about eight times, speaking about the Thor and the dark elves almost destroying Greenwich. (That conversation included some rant from Darcy and how ugly the aliens were and that they shouldn't deserve being called elves.) That had brought about hundreds of anomalies popping about in London, going into worlds part of the Yggdrasil. [20]

These anomalies occurring in the Alps were not of the scale of both of these but gave Illyria a chance to prove herself of her abilities. Well, she had to start somewhere: so why not these small-scaled anomalies?

The Alps had no chance of matching the beauty of Imladris.

When Glorfindel told her, he would bring her back to Lord Elrond's house the long way, what he really meant was a free tour around the city. He didn't mind despite her asking every other twenty minutes if he was supposed to be doing lordly duties, but he waved it off and excused himself that he would rather be doing this than sorting papers.

Illyria shrugged it off, who wanted to do legal papers anyways when you can be here?

Not only she was enjoying the view, but she was also enjoying the company she had. Glorfindel was surprisingly relaxed, freely answering any of her questions no matter how dumb she believed it was. She spoke briefly about her own home, of course saying that this was hardly matched by Imladris.

They arrived at what seemed to be the top of the valley, allowing for her to see the top of what she assumed was the Misty Mountains. She breathed, "This is amazing!" Illyria spoke with nostalgia, "I used to live in the mountain as a child, but this: this is beautiful."

Bringing her hand into her pocket, she secretly conjured her phone into her hand before taking it. Might as well act like a tourist and bring something Darcy as a souvenir.

Her concentration at the landscape almost caught her off guard when Glorfindel asked, "What is that contraption, if I may ask?"

Turning to her side, she held her Stark phone out and answered. "Oh. This is a phone."

Glorfindel leaned in closer, peering his eyes at the black screen. Once she tapped it on, the lock screen came up. Suddenly, a gasp left his lips and he might as well had jumped at his spot as he stared at the phone in awe.

Smiling to herself, Illyria shut the Stark phone off before twirling the device around her hand.

He exclaimed, though his tone almost seemed to turn to worry. "It emits light! Is it like..."

Illyria wondered, "Like what?"

"...A jewel."

As that word went into her ear, she wanted to snap the memory shut and kick it like a bucket. Nope, she wasn't going to think about it right now. Though when she looked at him, he too looked shaken.

Then her eyes widened. She realised then who she was talking to.

Rushing out her words, she assured him. "Um, sorry. No no, not those jewels."

A sigh left his lips, guilt edged on his face. "I'm sorry, Lady Illyria."

She was confused as to why he seemed guilty as well. Had he noticed her react at the word as well?

"Lord Glorfindel," Illyria called to him.

He glanced back at her, a smile returning to his eyes. "You may call me Glorfindel, my lady."

There was a part in her heart that grew warm and she couldn't help but quip back, "If you promise to call me Illyria."

That earned a nod of gratitude, them agreeing to drop the formalities. Did she just make friends with the Balrog Slayer?

"Now explain to me what this...phone is? What does it do?" Glorfindel asked, returning the subject at the device in hand. If she was honest to herself, he looked like a puppy looking at a new chew toy.

Bless him.

Illyria gave him a side smile. Though on the inside, she was too giddy to comprehend what she was about to ask him to do.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Darcy's going to freak out!"

Bursting into Bilbo's room, she spotted the hobbit in question jump from his chair by the balcony.

He rushed up to her, questioned back: "What! What happened?"

Illyria laughed, shaking her head. "Oh no, Bilbo." She reassured him. "It's just an expression. What I meant is that: Darcy will be extremely excited when she sees this." Conjuring her phone, she turned it on and showed her hobbit friend the screen.

Showing right in front of them was a photo.

Of her and Glorfindel. A selfie with Glorfindel.

"What is that?" Bilbo questioned, slightly disturbed by the bright light of the device.

She then quickly explained, "Oh, I forgot to show you this. It's a phone. I showed it to Glorfindel when he took me around to see the city."

Bilbo made a noise of realisation, speaking as matter of fact. "So that's where you've been." He continued, "Balin's been wondering where you've been, you haven't met with any of the Company that even Thorin asked me where you've been."

She placed her hands on her hips, asking back: "How would you know? I thought you went to the library with Ori?"

"I was, but-" Bilbo turned as pink as a peach, hiding his embarrassment under those light brown locks as he stared down at his hobbit feet.

Was she hearing this straight? Was Bilbo Baggins spending time with Thorin Oakenshield, the very same one that called him a grocer? It was there that she couldn't help but snort to herself in her mind. How she wasn't going to expect this would have to resolve to her lying to herself, and she hated that too.

Kili and Fili will probably want the juicy details about this.

Illyria gave him a deadpanned expression. "Right. Tell that to Valar,"

He gasped, "Illyria Strange!"

"Bilbo Baggins!"

That earned her a glare back and did not look healthy for the hobbit to wear.

She laughed, waving her hand at him before sighing. "I'm joking, my friend. But as your friend, I have privileges in being nosy."

____

[1] - Messiah: A leader regarded as the saviour of a particular country, group or cause.
[2] - Vespa/Moped: Italian brand of a scooter manufactured by Piaggio.
[3] - Filo Pastry: very thin unleavened dough used to make things such as baklava.
[4] - Met Gala: An annual fundraising gala for the Metropolitan Museum of Arts.
[5] - Anna Wintour: British Journalist, editor-in-chief of Vogue.
[6] - Crimson Bands of Cyttorak: A relic stored in the New York Sanctum used to restrain Kaecilius.
[7] - Area 51: Highly classified air force facility in the US. Many stormed to get into it but sadly none succeeded.
[8] -Fort Knox: A US Army installation used to store the country's gold reserves.
[9] - Peredhel: meaning 'half-elven' in Sindarin.
[10] - Ithron: meaning 'wizard' in Sindarin.
[11] - Vilya: One of the elven rings forged by Celebrimbor, known as the Ring of Air.
[12] - Angmar: a realm establish in 1300 TA by the Lord of the Nazgul later known as the Witch-King of Angmar.
[13] - Arnor: the North Kingdom of men located in Eriador, Middle Earth. Founded by Elendil in 3320 SA.
[14] - Dunedain: Sindarin for 'West-men' were the race of men descended from the Numenoreans who survived the sinking of the island.
[15] - Gondolin: A secret elven kingdom located in the middle of Beleriand in Middle Earth. Founded by Turgon in the Early First Age. It lasted for 4 centuries until it was destroyed by Morgoth, betrayed by Maeglin.
[16] - Gondolinic Runes: a writing system used in Gondolin, resembled the Cirth but didn't belong to Daeron's system.
[17] - Mordor: a realm east of Gondor and south of Mirkwood. The very place Frodo and Sam went to destroy the Ring at Mount Doom.
[18] - YouTube: an American online video-sharing platform.
[19] - Gossip Girl: An American teen drama TV series based on the novels by Cecily von Ziegesar.
[20] - Yggdrasil: An immense and central sacred tree in Norse mythology, but is the connections of the nine realms in the MCU.

____

A/N: And here we are back in Middle Earth and honestly if I was her: I would be hyping more when you ever meet Glorfindel. 

We also got a new PoV since I realised that scene would have been better in Elrond's eyes rather than Illyria's. How is Illyria connected to the jewels? Why are they all acting up like this?

More coming soon ;)

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Edited: 18/06/2021