9 | Pulling a Strange

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Location: Imladris, Middle Earth

Time: June 2941 T.A

For the next few days, Illyria was on edge every moment she was alone.

All she could think about was Elemmírë, the mysterious elf that was related to Glorfindel and perhaps the very reason both Elrond and Glorfindel seemed to act up around her. Maybe perhaps she looked like her and that was why Glorfindel was rather emotional when he laid eyes upon her. But Elrond, it just made the matter more confounding and complicated – especially what was simmering underneath the layers of her heart.

She couldn't lie to herself that she might have grown some liking to the Elven Lord, but Illyria knew it was wrong.

Her liking Elrond Peredhel that way was wrong. Way wrong on so many levels. And it didn't help her own assurance after hearing what Elrohir said to her the other day. He was married for god's sake! With children no less! And his children were probably a hundred times older than her, with their adult lives.!

Argh, she really needed to kick something: but Glorfindel was too busy training the elven guard today. She was not going to the half-elf for company. Nada. Even if a small portion in her head told her that maybe there might be more she could get out of him...or get out of his office for instance.

Nope. She was not going down that road. The last she knew someone sneak into a place to look for information, she had caught Stephen Strange turning an apple back to its decaying core before rewinding time to return it to its life.

Well...it might be an idea later.

But not now, as she set her journey down to where Ori and Bilbo were working. She hadn't seen Bilbo in the past few days, always leaving her with Ori to help with translations or doing her own notes to take back to Earth. She and Ori just agreed with the same assumption: that Bilbo was with a certain dwarf king doing some...extensive training.

Yeah, we'll go with that.

She was carrying her staff along with her, tapping it on top of her boots as she sauntered along before she found a short figure sitting by the steps overlooking the front entrance. Once she noticed the familiar long dark hair wrapped with a hair tie and the dark grey tunic, Illyria tapped her staff onto the marble floor – catching his attention.

His head flickered towards her whilst she greeted, "Hey, Estel. What are you up to?" Illyria then stopped before correcting herself, "I mean, what are you doing today?"

To her prediction, Estel sighed in boredom. "Erestor's busy with helping Father prepare, and both Elladan and Elrohir are on patrol this week."

Illyria can tell from just inspecting his face that it was a normal occurrence. She guessed that some weeks he would both have the twins around to keep company, and some weeks where the twins would be busy. She wondered if there were other elven children in Imladris. And come to think of it, she realised she hardly heard or saw any.

She then spoke, "Well, since I'm free: want to join my company with Ori and Bilbo?" Illyria smiled encouragingly. "They're going to help me with my Westron. And I'm certain you're much better than me."

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Their entire day revolved about bringing Estel some happiness, allowing him to ask her questions about what's it like being a sorcerer (if she was like Gandalf) and what kind of spells she could do. Bless that boy had the energy of an Xbox 360 controller, everlasting battery life that might as well run-in fuelling questions than food. [18]

She had Estel join her lessons in Westron. It was better having the kid around since she was the only one being grilled by Ori or Bilbo whenever she pronounced something wrong. Though after an hour of learning, Estel did begin getting a little impatient and kept staring out of the window from the library.

Illyria took her leave, taking Estel with her down to where the Company was training and hoped to see if Kili and Fili were available to occupy them. To her relief, they arrived on time just as the dwarves were finished training – catching the older dwarves' suspicious eyes before she gave Balin a polite smile. The Durin boys greeted Estel with similar enthusiasm, patting his head (even if Estel was almost their height to her amusement) before greeting her.

Then came the fun part of the day, which she wasn't sure she could consider it 'fun': but was interesting.

Teaching them tag was questionable. (Especially when one can escape up into the trees, two could tackle each other onto the ground or toss a pebble at their head, and one that can create portals: tag became a little wilder). But by the end, their cheeks were red out of exhaustion and laughter.

However, fun can never last. Kili and Fili said their goodbyes to Estel as they headed off to where they camped whilst she led him down towards the house.

"I've had a wonderful day, Lady Illyria. Thank you for letting me join you." Estel spoke with pure delight and honesty in his voice.

Illyria glanced down at him with a fond smile and waved it off. "Oh don't sweat it, Estel. It's been fun having you around other than just Bilbo, Ori or the boys. And I know they don't mind bringing you along on their little escapades." She continued, "Just try not to dye anybody's hair again please?"

Glorfindel had to go to training with ginger hair still; she wondered how that turned out.

"I promise, Lady Illyria," Estel replied.

Illyria nodded, leading him down the path. "Good, because right now I think I took the wrong turn." She turned around from the dead end, but then noticed her small companion frozen in his place. Illyria asked concernedly, "Are you alright Estel?"

Where they ended up appeared to be a little courtyard, with multiple bushes and trees surrounding them. And right at the opposite end of the entrance was a large stone block and a statue. When she got closer, she realised that it was a woman.

"Estel?" She echoed back.

He continued to walk towards the statue, looking up to face. "This is my mother's grave," Estel revealed.

She heard her heart drop, a pit of unease beginning to churn as she strode towards his side. Illyria breathed, "Oh, I'm so sorry Estel." Her hand went over her face, rubbing her temples. "Gods, I feel like I'm intruding."

He spun his head up to her, exclaiming: "No! Not at all." Estel's eyes then saddened, gulping. "It's just. It has only been several years since she passed away. Mother was sick when we got here. Father tried to treat her, but he said she was growing worse."

Gilraen.

She remembered her name. The mother of Aragorn, who had brought him here to protect him from the darkness that was growing in Arnor. Ever since his true father, Arathorn, was killed as a child: he had been here ever since.

However, this wasn't what the books said for her. Gilraen was supposed to be alive; she was supposed to have left to return to her people whilst keeping Aragorn here for safety. Here she was, now in the tomb in front of her.

Her heart tightened with pain, seeing Estel's tears fill his cheeks as he looked down to his feet. Drawing herself down to her knees, she reached for his hand and turned him to her.

Estel then stared at her, saying with honesty. "I just miss her, Illyria."

She brought her hands up to his face. "Oh Estel..." Illyria said sadly, carefully wiping the tears off his cheeks with her fingers. "I am deeply sorry for your loss. But remember, she is never gone. Not when you are still here, breathing the very air in this world. She would be happy that you are happy, that you are with a family that loves you and you love them back."

His eyes turned back to her from the ground, curiously asking back: "Did you lose someone as well?"

It was her to finally reveal something she had yet told anyone in this. Far more in detail than she wanted.

Illyria hummed, "I did. Quite recent too." She spoke, "He was like an uncle to me, to me and my friend. We used to create things together, discover things that we both loved. But I know, it is difficult to let go of someone."

She gulped down the bile that went up to her throat, trying to find her voice again.

Clearing her voice, Illyria continued. "My first guardian once told my father, who then told me, that death is what gives life meaning. To know your days are numbered." She looked at the side, imagining the Ancient One's figure form in front of her. "At first, I believed it to think it was for her to say that she was grateful for the life, but in fact, she meant that we would never be ready for an end. We don't like endings, do we?" She gave him a small smile.

Estel's hands fiddled with each other, twitching his lips. "I always feel sad about ending a book."

Humming in agreement, she responded. "Me too. But I think what we can learn from that is we should cherish what we have now. To think of the present." She continued, "Yes, there will be some days where it's going to be hard, but I promise you: there will be light at the end. Could be a small flicker of a candle or the sun. But enough that shows you hope."

"Like my name?" He gazed down at her, his eyes showing such pure openness and trust.

Illyria her heart skip, grinning back at him. "Exactly," She whispered before standing up with the aid of her staff. Instead of keeping the sombre atmosphere, she decided to change the mood and encouraged the young future king back to the house. "Now, I think we should get some food. What do you think of more apple turnovers?"

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That evening, Illyria was going to do the stupidest thing of all stupidity.

Even stupid might be an understatement because she clearly could have just done it all in the Astral plane. However, the only drawbacks in choosing the Astral form were trying to connect herself onto the material plane. She was not at that chapter yet in the book of the Astral Dimension to be able to touch things physically let alone allow herself to walk on the floor. (Also, Uncle Wong forbade her to extend her learning until she can complete most of the lessons for an apprentice to then integrate herself fully as a disciple rank.)

Hence why she was sneaking around the large home with the use of her sling-ring. Illyria checked all corridors, keeping her footsteps as light she could with her human feet (elf feet are still hard to comprehend according to laws of physics) whilst checking for any people. Once she knew it was empty during the late night, Illyria set off towards the family wing.

She had to pat herself in the back for memorising Elrond's office just to form a small portal in the darkest part of the room. With this, she looked for any signs of the half-elf and found the office to be empty. After closing the portal, she took a deep breath and conjured another.

The view of Elrond's office appeared in front of her before Illyria stepped through with no hesitation.

Illyria muttered to herself, "This is totally breaking and entering but it's fine." She thinned her lips and shrugged. "Dad's done it before, so."

The golden portal disappeared behind her, allowing the silence to enter her ears as she walked around in awe. The moonlight shone through the columns, creating an ambient atmosphere as she sauntered quickly to the bookshelves and began to search – anything to do with Elemmírë or the First Age.

'Alright. So where would you hide all of the First Age history books?' Illyria wondered, her hands trailing over the binds of the books as she skimmed read each front page. She realised that the books were sorted by subject, hinted by the first set of books she picked up before placing them back into their former spot.

Ten minutes in, she already growing rather frustrated. Nothing seemed to relate with the Noldor elf here – which could also imply how suspicious this was all. If the library was one of the largest on this continent, why the hell they didn't have a famous elf recorded. The longer she processed this, the harder she frowned to herself.

By twenty minutes she was about to give up and return to her room but then eyed the dangerous area. Elrond's desk.

Illyria rose her eyebrows slightly before heading towards it swiftly. Guilt was growing in her body, but she threw it aside and told herself that it was for her own good. If he was hiding something from her, he would keep it somewhere safe.

Luckily, she had a knack for locks.

She went through the top of the desk first, which was neat piles of papers along with an inkpot and quill beside it. A candleholder was perched on the other side, the wick already halfway melted. Elrond must've been working late this evening, which was evident by all the papers. Illyria then rummaged through the drawers, opening the top one to find more papers and quills.

'They need to start recycling these at this rate,' Illyria quipped before shutting the drawing quietly and continued. When she tried to pull the knob on the bottom drawer, it had not budged an inch. Well, that's a jackpot.

Illyria muttered a few words and smirked to hear the click of the lock. She pulled the drawer open and found herself looking at a book. She looked over to the door for a second before grabbing it, smooth leather over her fingertips, as she placed it down on the desk. It was there Illyria came to realise what it was.

It was the navy book from her dreams.

A sharp breath escaped her mouth. There goes her chance of believing her visions were just whack. Now it seemed to be real. Illyria opened the cover and read the title in the front.

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To Elemmírë

From Elrond

Calanya

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"Calanya..." She muttered to herself, "My...light." Illyria began to go through, reading the first excerpt. [19]

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Hello, I am Elemmírë.

Elrond gifted this to me in hopes I can clear my thoughts. He said that writing my worries could ease my mind after a days-worth of work and training, which perhaps could be the best thing I ever was gifted other than obviously my children.

But alas, a mind like mine is rather unique than most. I have always been attuned to the song around me, hearing the thoughts of minds like it was my second language. But now, I can read them now with no guilt of intruding.

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Illyria flicked through the rest, skipping several excerpts before reaching the page that caused her to halt.

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I am afraid. For several weeks now, my powers have been uncontrollable. It feels as if in one moment I am burning like the sun, and the next I feel myself wading in darkness.

What if happening to me? I have always been able to control this. The light that no other Eldar has been given by the Valar. I wished now that I once spoke to Melian for advice, as now I am unsure of how to battle this. A war is brewing, and I am supposed to ride in a few days with my brother to give aid.

Arnor grows dark as the shadow from Angmar grows. I want to hope for a good outcome, for the people of Arnor to be safe. But for my own self? I do not know.

Not when I feel that my power may be my undoing. [20]

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She flicked to the last used page, gasping under her breath as a separate piece of parchment caught her eyes. She did not realise she had picked the book up in her hands, lips parted in utter shock.

It was a drawing of an elven woman.

An elven woman who looked exactly like her.

It was her, the same eyes, nose, and lips. How her smile was precisely tilted when she smiled in the mirror. The cheekbones and round jaw. Her hair was long and flowing, braided down like how Glorfindel wore his. Perched on her head was a silver, circlet: ornate and beautiful.

Suddenly, her hand grew weak under the book's weight.

There was then a soft thud.

Her head rose upwards, her hand still on top of the drawing. However, Illyria's body grew cold as she found herself staring at grey eyes.

Elrond's eyes.

And they were filled with anger.

"Put down the book." He calmly ordered, his eyes never leaving hers as she faltered her movement.

Illyria opened her mouth, but all she said was a sound. "I..." She clamped her mouth shut and gulped. She felt like she had been caught like a child after being caught red-handed at a place they should not be. Like how she wasn't supposed to be here at all.

However, she could not leave his gaze – moving away from the desk as she stepped back with her hands at her side and lowered the book down. Meanwhile, he edged closer towards her.

"What are you doing here, Illyria." He asked her, his tone blank as he then glanced his eyes at the navy book on the desk.

His anger turned into dread.

It was her turn to flex her fingers, inhaling through her nostrils as she said with a bland tone. "I think we both have our questions, Elrond."

The moment she caught his face once more, she was surprised to him relax before exhaling heavily with a grave voice. "I had hoped this would never have come. Not after only three weeks."

Illyria raised her eyebrows and corrected, "Barely three weeks." Her eyes darted back to the desk and the set of chairs surrounding it. Gesturing to the setup, Illyria stated. "So, let's talk."

"Very well." He said in defeat, walking over to her as she waited behind the chair quietly.

Illyria hoped he would go around to his place but was confused as he passed and went over to one of the cabinets. Taking out several objects, she sat down without any concern for his sake.

He returned to his side of the desk, placing down wine glass at her end. She glanced up and peered at him, "Why are you giving me a glass." Illyria asked but then saw the bottle. "Oh."

Whilst he poured the red liquid into both glasses, Elrond commented. "You and I both know we won't be able to do this without wine, Illyria."

She grunted back, still a little stunned by Elrond's chill attitude suddenly. One moment she could tell he was utterly pissed, the next he looked like a deflated sad balloon from a funfair. Whilst he took his sip of the wine, she cheered herself and took a sip.

Illyria choked on the wine. "This is horrid!" She cried, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth.

Elrond took another sip before he replied, "At least your tastes haven't changed. Dorwinion wine, from The Woodland Realm." He elaborated, swirling the liquid around his glass before putting it down. "King Thranduil sent this a century ago."

Forget about it being from the Woodland Realm. Whatever this wine is: this was not wine. This was practically 100% alcohol. Her human liver would practically beg for mercy if she drank a ton of this.

But then Illyria remembered why they were drinking.

So, she took another sip. And then placed the glass down and pushed it away from her grasp. Illyria's tongue was on fire, her throat burning more than any hot sauce she'd eaten.

Shaking her head, she held her hands up in surrender. "No thank you. I like my wine a little sweeter." Drawing them back over to her lap, she glanced up to him and asked, "So, who's going to start?"

Elrond was yet staring down at the book, entranced by the writings. After a while, he then took a larger gulp before pouring more wine into his glass.

She exhaled, "Me then, considering you're still trying to put alcohol in your system." Illyria then changed her tone, catching his attention. "Elemmírë, tell me about her."

He cleared his throat, probably how dry that disgusting wine was. "All you must know is that she was an elf from Gondolin. Glorfindel was your...her brother." Elrond revealed, never leaving her eyes. "Majority of her childhood was in the hidden city, safe away from the enemy."

Illyria finished, "Until it was betrayed." She saw the curious looks from him before she then added, "I know the tale of the Fall of Gondolin."

Elrond nodded carefully, understanding what she knew. What they both knew. She revealed to the half-elf the day their conversation commenced how their world existed in hers through stories and books, dictating certain stories that have yet been made. The elf quickly knew not to question any further, but it didn't stop Elrond from being inquisitive about the future as well as her knowledge.

And from now, it would seem she should remember the past much more intimate than Illyria wanted. But how? Why her?

"You were there," Elrond answered, a steady breath as he spoke. "It was always the thing that you spoke of when we first met."

Illyria inhaled sharply back, pursing her lips as she stared down at the desk. She was trying to think as hard as she could, trying to find any memory of what he was speaking of, but nothing came. Why? Why couldn't she think of her past?

Never has she encountered the chances of reincarnation. Yes, several religions mentioned this on Earth, but Illyria never witnessed it in the present.

"I don't even know that." Her voice cracked, continuing to question him. Her eyes began to sting as she kept speaking. "How is possible that I can remember a life that wasn't even mine?"

Elrond inhaled, gazing away as if he was unsure himself. "I do not know." He returned his face towards her, shutting the navy book close – afraid to see the drawing again. "But you bear her appearance, with the same voice despite the differing style of speech."

He became quiet, like a whisper in the wind as his voice faded into silence. She could sense his eyes lingering on the front covers of the book – may be trying to remember the last time Elemmire once had it in her hands. Eyes that were filled with fondness, but also pain.

So much pain that Illyria was afraid that if she saw what was in his head, she would snap herself.

Illyria spoke, "She was something to you, wasn't she?"

He paused, staring down at the book. All there was, was the sound of her breath growing shallower, nervously reaching her hand towards his.

And in a comforting way, Illyria took hold of his hand, her heart rate pacing. What was she doing? It felt familiar to her, sensing her hand partially mould in his. But something foreign and distant drew her back to feeling unsure.

His eyes locked into hers as Illyria whispered, "Elrond, I need to know if I'm not going mad. And that this is all a dream."

"I wish it was a dream." He muttered at her, fingers curling around hers. "You don't understand how much you are in danger if you truly are her."

"What do you mean?" Illyria questioned.

"You...you are my..."

Elrond never finished just as there was a knock at the door. They both noticed their hands intertwined and he gently let go, making her hand seem lonely to her thoughts. Illyria blinked her eyes, noticing how close her face and quickly leaned back in her chair. Her cheeks warm and hot. And it wasn't because of the alcohol.

Speaking of alcohol, she took a quick sip from her glass before turning her head around.

"Enter," Elrond called out.

Illyria adjusted herself in her seat before finding Glorfindel striding towards them.

Great, right on time. It wasn't as if he had been interrupting anything.

And for her, she was impressed that Elrond immediately became composed. But from reading his stiffened posture and pink cheeks, Illyria and he both mutually agreed not to mention it to the blonde elf.

Speaking of the blonde elf, he seemed worried: eyeing the half-elven lord as he spoke, "Elrond, Illyria wasn't in..." He then noticed the other glass and the wine before looking down at her. "Oh."

Illyria raised a brow and looked across to Elrond. "Oh indeed."

Whilst that occurred, Elrond took another empty glass and poured it in half-full – placing it down in front of Glorfindel.

As the blonde elf took a second to process his thoughts, he glanced between Elrond and her before saying something. "I am clearly missing something here. And with the wine out, I think you have found out." Taking a sip of wine, he made a grim look at the glass. "Thranduil's taste needs some work."

Alright, so this was the most awkward conversation Illyria had to sit in. And nothing can compare to when her dad had to explain to her about the birds and the bees. (Seriously, he was a former doctor and he was terrified of having to explain puberty to her.)

Illyria cut to the chase, letting him sit down beside her. "So... I am your sister."

Glorfindel hardened his gaze, gulping: "I...I do not know how far Elrond has spoken about it, but by how I sense your fëa and your powers..."

He trailed off, looking across to Elrond before returning to her.

Glorfindel's eyes prickled with tears, continuing. "But yes. I cannot lie about that." He added, "The moment I met you, I knew you were my sister despite your second-born features."

Illyria gave the elf an unimpressed look, rolling her eyes as she leaned back on her chair. "Wow, I feel loved already." Her voice then broke back to seriousness. "So, we were talking about how this was possible."

"You seem to agree rather freely," Elrond observed.

She hesitated for a moment. A part of her was eager to let it slide, to make an excuse of believing everything that was happening right now. And the other, she wanted to explain to them what really was going on inside her head. If those visions truly linked to this elf. Why she can sense understanding around her. That there was more than just a link as she physically held Elrond's hand.

Illyria could sense in all planes of this universe that she knew them. Not at Illyria, but as somebody else.

"...When I was a child. I've had visions. Things that I've never would think of. What a six-year-old kid would know about dragons burning lands and these large creatures, which I came to realise as orcs, shouldn't be what a child should be dreaming about no matter how much they've been exposed to stories and movies." Illyria had her hands fiddle the hem of her robes, taking a shuddering breath. "I hid them well, tried not to mention it when I was younger. But my guardian always said I would wake up drenched in sweat, crying and screaming of names they assumed were from the books I've read."

The two pondered for a while before Elrond softly questioned, "When did you begin to realize they were becoming true?"

Oh no. I don't think they'll her answer.

"When Gandalf mentioned about the Silmarils."

Both of their minds focused on the name with irritation. Illyria raised her hands and added, "Hey! Don't blame him. I think he didn't see how much it affected me, but since coming here: I just haven't been able to sleep at night."

Elrond held his hand near his face and rubbed his temple. To be honest, if she were in his place, she would probably be having a headache over her story. "Perhaps it is possible for Elemmírë's fëa beginning to resurface into your mind." He thought aloud, "But that would mean that her fëa must've left the Halls."

"That's impossible, Elrond." Glorfindel gave a narrowed glance at him. "All fëa after passing stays in the Halls until re-embodied. If Elemmírë would have returned, she would have come through to Círdan much as I did." [21]

"Okay, hold up. First, drink." Illyria took a sip, made the same horrible face, and then gulped it all down. God she needed more alcohol to discuss theoretical magic. "Second: so she died. And I can tell that you two don't want to speak about it. Which I'm okay with, I understand what's it like to talk about people you're close to. But since she's dead and she's not in Valinor..."

"You were reborn somewhere else. Outside of Arda." Elrond finished, his jaw tightening as he stared out of the window.

Glorfindel frowned his lips. "For the race of men is possible, but for the Eldar?" He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. "Elrond, you know that we are tied to Arda no matter what."

That brought up a thought, remembering from the books that everyone here were tied by what Tolkien told as 'The Fate of Arda', which sounded ominous enough for her amusement. At least right now it didn't appear to be a shock to her. But it did seem funny, making her snort.

"Nice to know I broke the laws of your world and left this world." Illyria whistled, earning a blonde elf to roll his eyes at her. "Wow, I did not know I was a troublemaker."

"It runs quite well in the family..." Glorfindel muttered.

Elrond sent him a sharp look and sighed. "It's a possibility. I am not someone who usually dwells in these waters."

"Who would be?" She asked back.

Elrond answered, "The Lady Galadriel." He continued, "You knew of her before. And as she is arriving in a few days, perhaps she might answer our questions."

Taking a short huff, Illyria stretched her back (damn this chair needed a better backrest) as she replied, "Right. Okay." Her head then flicked back to them and gaped. "Wait. The Lady of the Golden Wood."

No words can describe how much excitement caused her heart to race. The Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien, perhaps one of the most powerful elves known to Middle Earn. A.k.a the Lady of Light, Mistress of Magic and clearly the hottest woman to have ever graced the movie screen. Damn if she – Elemmire – knew her before, she might just faint and lose her voice.

Yup, Illyria could fangirl right now if the two weren't giving her amused smiles.

She shifted in her chair and asked, "Why are you looking at me?"

"Elemmírë would not be as enthusiastic as you are hearing of this news." Glorfindel sipped his wine, grinning under the glass.

She blinked several times before nudging her head at them. "I'm guessing there's a history behind this."

"You have no idea, sister," Glorfindel responded.

They continued their conversation for perhaps another hour in the night, the two elves answering her questions to and from each other. And as much as Illyria wanted to deny it, she started to feel relaxed and comforted by what they were talking about. What she used to be.

Or it was the alcohol again. Might be that.

Soon, all things must end and Glorfindel excused himself to rest. He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a small smile before wishing her goodnight. He nodded back to Elrond and exited the office, which then left her and the half-elf standing facing each other. A stagnant silence beginning to form.

Illyria glanced back at the navy book, guilt residing in her chest. She glanced at him and said, "I am sorry. For that."

Elrond shook his head, "I for one should be apologizing as well." He gave her a small sad smile, her heart cracking. "None of us should have hidden our speculation, whether if you were Elemmírë or not?"

She took a deep breath. Illyria can see the reasons why they have hidden it as of now. They wanted her to feel welcomed, but also free with a choice. She was impressed that it took them almost three weeks to hide this all, to watch her walk around Imladris unaware that she once tread in these halls.

Even then, she knew it would take her time to adjust. Illyria needed to find a common ground between them. Not only realizing that she now had a sibling but something between her and Elrond.

In the dark pits of her heart, it tried to hint her to speculation. However, Illyria shoved it aside. She wouldn't come to that conclusion yet. Too early.

Shaking her head, she answered back. "It's not certain yet." Illyria picked the navy book up, held it towards him. "And here. I'm sorry for intruding. This belongs to you."

Elrond's eyes softened, pressing his hand at his end of the book and gently moved it back to Illyria. "Keep it." He spoke, "It is – was – yours to begin with."

Slowly, she drew it back into her hand, carefully opening the page where the drawing was. When her eyes darted to the scripture, she noticed something familiar.

The ink mid-sentence was running down as she noticed the tiny splotches on the page.

Tear stains.

"Illyria?"

Glancing upwards, she closed the book shut and held it over her chest. Illyria gave Elrond one last gaze and said, "I should go." She nodded with a small smile. "Thank you again."

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[18] - Xbox360: A gaming console from Microsoft.
[19] - Calanya: 'My light,' in Quenya
[20] - Melian: Also known as Melian and the Maia, Queen of Doriath during the First Age.
[21] - Fea: 'Spirit or soul' in Quenya.

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A/N: Cat's out of the bag, and our lovely sorceress just had her doors open wide for her. I also changed some things with Aragorn and his parents since I believed it would fit with what I was trying to convey and what it would mean between him and Elrond. It'll be something that would be touched upon later in the story.

Thank you again and I hope you enjoyed the double update.

Edited: 07/08/2021