Disclaimer: I don't own any of the work of Tolkien.

This is my first Lord of the Rings fic. As you will notice it doesn't take place entirely in Middle-Earth. Hopefully with your support it will be a long one, but please be patient with me. I don't know how soon I will be able to update. But if you like it please review to let me know about how this story seems to you.

The pairing is Glorfindel/OC and Haldir/OC (same OC) but that happens as the story unfolds, so you'll have to wait… ;D Thank you for taking the time to read and review this story… You will find that it is quite different…!

Story: Go on

Writer: marilynGR

Genre: action/adventure, romance

Rating: T or M later

Summary: A young elleth from Gondolin, during its fall ends up in Earth. After many years of underworld life, she meets Haldir, who was brought there too. How will their relationship evolve and what does Glorfindel have to do? Het only.

Go on

Chapter 1

London, Earth

Year 1876

The cold tile floor of the alley was sending slow, tormenting shivers to her back as she lay there, curled up in a tight ball. The world around her was a fuss of color and sound, all mingled together in a surreal image. Whether she was dying or already dead she wasn't able to tell, nor did she care. She felt something blurry inside her, a tide that was moving mercilessly towards her every nerve. Pain and guilt. And pain again. She clutched her sides fiercely and prayed to the Valar not to ever let her wake up again.

If anyone had passed from the silent, moist backstreet at that moment he would have seen a broken feminine form sprawled on the dirty floor, blind in desperation. He would have probably asked her if she was alright. He might even have left her there, minding his own business. Or he could have hurt her. But so fate brought it that none passed and Míriela of Gondolin was left alone, receiving no more hurt in her pain as well as no help either.

Minutes passed and then they became hours. The first morning rays of the sun fell shyly upon her motionless body. During the night she had had many thoughts and even more outbursts of sorrow. She had even been close to the point of no return, that's how intense her grief was. Everything she knew, everything –and everyone- she cherished, were gone. Crumbled into dust by the iron grip of evil.

But she was alive. She couldn't remember-she didn't want to remember- what had happened. It was impossible, yet she was alive, whether she deserved it more than the others or not. She definitely didn't deserve it more than them, him… She winced in pain as his beautiful face popped up in her memory, clouded by agony and shadow. She wouldn't die just yet, not from sorrow; it would make his sacrifice pointless.

She found it difficult to open her eyes. They were swollen and the eyelids were stuck together in dried tears that she hadn't registered that were shed. Rising faintly her hand she rubbed them and took a careful look around. She was in an unknown place. It was definitely far away from her home- her ex home, she reminded herself. The buildings were different from those of her birthplace and on the floor there was no…grass. It all seemed so different. Unfamiliar textures and shapes, heavy smells and the sun being so dull…

Realizing she would rise suspicions if she continued to lie on the floor, she got up on her feet again and with a swift move caught the brick wall so as not to fall dead flat again because of the numbness of her feet. 'I should be dead now anyway… The Balrog-'

No, no more could she think of that. Too many memories. Glorfindel. His hair shining golden before he fell from the edge of the mountain, the roar she had heard coming from behind, the shiver, the heat… It was all like a dream and she still couldn't understand what had happened.

'Perhaps the Valar sent me here… This is clearly a different world; I recognize none of this… What if there are no elves here?'

True enough, she heard distant footsteps that could only belong to men and careless ones too. A group of males in strange garments, chatting vividly, walked in front of her and disappeared in the next turn, the echo of their voices lingering in the place even moments after they were gone. What she saw them wear cleared any doubts she might have had. The straight, somewhat large trousers, the weird cloth with the angles they wore over their shirts and the tall hats were something she was facing for the first time in her two hundred and twelve years of life.

She also hadn't missed the looks they sent her way. Some of them were clearly those of male admiration, but an instant before she had seen curiosity and something she couldn't quite place flash into their eyes. She touched her hair and her fingers met a mass of uncombed, dishevelled hair. 'I must look as if a wild, black bush grew on my head. No wonder they were staring…'

She walked over the alley and came to a halt as she saw the main street and the square. People, many people and all of them humans were moving swiftly around, some of them entering doors, other exiting and many more taking strolls around the fountain.

It was that little fountain that made her stop. She once – a day ago, how ironic- had known an ellon that was forever tied with the fountains. He was one of her two best friends, only that the other was…more. Now, they were both gone. Another memory surfaced in her mind: Etchelion, her dark haired friend staring at her through lifeless eyes, deep inside the water of his fountain.

The Lord of Fountains and the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. They were the merriest and most mischievous elves she knew. But that was… before.

Pushing the memories in the back of her mind and locking them there for the time being, she hid in the corner of the main street with another alley and listened to the conversations that took place around her.

"Wonderful weather today, Lady Jonas, don't you agree?"

"Most definitely so, Lord Smithson! London's days usually don't require sun protection, but today... "

But they went on as they continued their talking out of her hearing range. Míriela assumed that the sun protection was the umbrella the young woman was holding; only that she couldn't understand its use. The sun was not in the least bright comparing to Gondolin's and it certainly wasn't raining. 'Weird customs, they have in this place…'

Another problem was their dress code. Of course, men were wearing some sort of leggings and women dresses, but it didn't bode too well. Because the dresses were a lot tighter than hers, revealing much more to the male eye and the neckline was deeper. And while she wasn't one of those ladies in her world who always wanted to look aristocratic and unspotted, she treasured her dignity and wished only the males of her choosing to look upon her like that.

In the state she was in now, however, even walking in the open amongst the strolling couples would end ill for her. So, for the rest of the day she walked the backstreets of this place called 'London', if she was right.

When she had seen enough of the city to conclude that the dark tones of the buildings and the floors were representative of the whole place, she decided that, the next day, she should do something about her looks and then try to find a way home perhaps, or, since that was highly improbable, a place to stay and a job to earn her meal. She also had to hide her pointy ears, for they would surely give away her identity. For the moment, she made sure her hair fell on the sides of her face, not revealing the –shocking for those people, she believed- truth.

During her exploration she had found a small tunnel that could serve her sufficiently for the night. She sat against the wall, hugged her knees and drifted to an uncomfortable sleep, full of dreams of her golden-haired love and the fiery breath that separated them.

------------------------- -

It was already four days since she had set foot on this foreign world. Still she had no place to go and not a single coin to buy any food. Míriela's pride was forbidding her to take anything from the market that didn't belong to her, so hunger was now an ever present turmoil in the center of her stomach.

The second morning she had waken up in London, she went to the first fount she saw and cleared the mass of her dark hair, the characteristic of her Noldor heritage. They were not perfect –she had no soap- but they were more presentable, after she uncombed the wet flocks with her hands. Her dress was torn and dirty, but for that there was nothing she could do.

Then, she had went around asking – thank the Valar, she had taken lessons in Westron- for a place to stay, but most inns were asking for money she didn't have and had no job for her. Determined not to give up, she had went to more inns and other places, but to no avail.

The fourth night she could hardly walk. The aloofness and coldness of these people had her stunned and she was starting to fear that she would soon be in a very difficult position if she didn't eat.

Falling to her knees, she tried to compose her remaining strength. In the dim light of the lamp post, she eyed her destination. The last inn in that part of the city. Would she be able to find a job and a piece of bread there? Rising once more, she slowly reached the wooden door of the inn. Pushing it wide open, she headed for the innkeeper, assuming he was the one behind the dirty bar.

He was a tall, skinny man with greasy hair and goatee. She didn't like the assessing look he gave her.

"May I help you, pretty lady?"

"I'm looking for a place to stay and eat… I have no money-"

"No money, huh?"

"-but I will work." She finished.

"I'm sorry; we have no jobs to be done." His tone was indifferent, as he continued to polish the glasses.

She couldn't stand another night without nourishment and she wouldn't die because of the stupidity of men.

"Excuse me sir, but I am in dire need of nourishment. I'm starving. Perhaps, I can help at the stables, there must surely be someth-"

"Didn't you hear me girl? Or is your pretty head empty?"

She would take no such offences from a man of his rank. As she was preparing to answer, another man, quite more plump but as detestable bent over the bar and whispered in the innkeeper's ear. With her keen elven hearing she caught the worlds 'too pretty' and 'some use'. Then the second man winked and waited for the tall man to speak.

Grinning half-crookedly he asked her:

"How desperate are you?" And he raised his hand to touch her cheek, but Míriela moved before he could see her and pushed his hand downwards.

'Truly he's not implying… He can't be- I'm starving but I'd rather die than do that. Oh, how I wish Glorfindel was here. This disgusting human would be dead now…'

Furious, she told him that there was no way. "When the sun will rise from the North, there might be a chance." Her words were potent, besides her weakness.

"Then, there's no food for you missy." He had the air of a man that is sure of himself and of the fact that she would become his prostitute.

She looked around the inn at the rest of the men and immediately wished she hadn't. She felt trapped. They were all staring at a peace of meat they wanted to consume as soon as possible.

A wave of nausea reminded her that she had to eat, or none of this would matter. Suddenly deciding she had to take action, she spotted a group of men with better clothing than the rest and marched towards them, quickly. Her noble air had disappeared, as the instinct of survival kicked in. Grabbing the richest looking by the neck firmly, she hissed loudly enough for all the startled men to listen.

"I need a job other than humiliation. I won't starve because of a bunch of deprived, sick SCUM. Either I get a decent one NOW, or this night will make Morgoth's dark days look like he was picking flowers in the woods."

Desperate times call for desperate measures and she didn't care if her mother would have fainted seeing her like that, towering over a man and hissing with her hand on his throat, surrounded by at least thirty more men. She was also sure that they had no idea who Morgoth was but they had gotten the point.

Fuming as she was, she noticed the glimmer of interest in the man she was holding threateningly. "I hope you have a better proposition" she told him.

"Yes, Lady, I think I do. Can we talk about this outside, if you don't mind?"

She nodded but and released him, her grey eyes narrowed as if telling him not to try anything. She wasn't sure where she had found the strength for what she did, but perhaps it would save her life.

The silence in the room was total as they made their way outside through the back door of the inn.

A cold breeze of air reddened her cheeks as she turned to face the old man. They were alone in the dirty street.

Leaning against the wall of the inn, he spoke in hushed tones. "Do you have fighting skills to match your vigor?"

"Yes, I was taught the art of the daggers in an early age." Using the same tone but a little impatiently, she answered him.

"Then, it will do. Listen, young lady, the job I'm offering is difficult but it can secure you some money. I think you would make a fine bounty hunter."

"A what?"

"Bounty hunter. You will be to hunt down and capture or kill those who have defied the law and committed crimes. Mind you, the job is illegal and manly but I think you can handle yourself. Make sure you keep in mind that the whole business is more complicated and you really don't want to get involved. I'm only the messenger, so don't mess up with the boss. Will you take the job?"

So, she would have to fight and kill in the middle of the night. Not exactly a fate she was expecting for herself. But she really had not much choice and something told her that there was much more in the underworld of this place that she would meet than you could guess by one look.

"I will become this bounty hunter, as you put it, if I have a haven and some money. That's all I ask."

"And a great hunter you'll make too." He said obviously satisfied. "What you ask is secured. Now, go to this address and ask for Sir Ramón. Tell him Bernard sent you, to be the new bounty hunter. He will tell you where your haven is and later tonight a boy will bring you food. The same boy will be bringing you the messages with your assignments. Good lack, lass."

"Thank you."

So, she turned her back on him and left. Had she made the right choice? She would risk her life, she would deceive and kill. Even if they deserved it. She had never killed before. But she had to survive.

Later that night she found the address, met 'Sir Ramón', a serpent like old man, and finally went to her haven. It was no more than a hole in a 'basement' as they called it, but it was hers. Then she hungrily consumed all the food that was delivered to her. That was a true bliss, saving her from the torment of hunger. She slept fast and deeply –her eyes always open, as she was an elf- and waited for the new day to come.

That's how began Míriela's life as a deadly shadow of the night.

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Vienna, Earth

Year 1912

Míriela stood in front of the cracked mirror and stared at her reflection. All those years in Earth had no affect whatsoever on her beauty. She was an elf, as the silver scarf she had to wear reminded her. Her long, black hair were the same, only a little shorter to be more practical and the delicate features of her face remained untouched by time, unlike the human beauties she had watched grow old and die. She would always remain the same.

Except for a few scars. But that was the result of her job. Earth was evolving, every day brought something new and within the first years she had learnt to adapt. The nature of her life was such that she had developed a shell to protect herself. She was cold and aloof, even ruthless at her job. These grey eyes in the mirror had more steel than those of Míriela of Gondolin, they weren't the same he had loved and it pained her.

She was no longer only a bounty hunter. She had become involved in this world's doings more than the majority of its native inhabitants. How much she faced each day that if they suspected they would be terrorized! There were so many secret societies and organizations, each of them with its own policies and ambitions. So many politics under the table. And blood… Yes, it always had blood. And she was the deadliest weapon of all. During the day, she her identity was that of a simple seamstress with an obsession on wearing scarves, nothing more or less. They would never suspect who she was during the night.

The 'Shadow'. A legend with no face, rumoured to be a dangerous temptress. That was her. She sighed. Glorfindel... Everything was so different in this world… But tonight she had a job to do. Nightmares can't feed you.

The black, velvet dress she was wearing was showing clearly the curves of her slim silhouette. Her hair was pulled up in the manner that fashion required. Her lips were dark crimson. In short, she was exactly who she should be tonight. A dark, chic lady.

Right.

She was expecting her collaborator. One of them. She had many in each society and her true allegiance was doubted by many. Saying she was a double agent would be an understatement. She was always involved, everywhere.

It was a dangerous game she was playing and she knew. But she was proficient enough and danger was her life in the years that passed.

The society she hated the most, though, was the Lynx. They had the dirtiest methods but unfortunately didn't lack the intelligence to keep a low profile.

A knock on her door signified the arrival of her 'escort'. She would go to a famous cabaret, seduce a lawyer who had dealings with a Lynx link in Vienna, take him to a back room and kill him. He was responsible for the abuse of many girls she knew in that specific cabaret. She would tempt him, she would kill him and she would like it.

Stopping dead in her tracks, she wondered:

'What have I become?'

But she knew she had no other choice, it was part of her life and she couldn't stop having dealings with the underworld and lower her defence or she would be dead the next day.

Míriela opened the door to see her secretive collaborator and when she left her room, she was the 'Shadow' again.

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Los Angeles, Earth

Year 2013

"Hey Mir, can ya throw me the remote control?" Chris shouted from the living room to the kitchen, where she was preparing dinner for her and her two roommates.

"Why the hell do you leave it in the kitchen?"

"Oh, come on Mirie, I just went to steal some brownies from the fridge and I left it there, it's no big deal!"

Her head popped from the corner of a shelf. "And why pray, Chris, don't you take your lazy ass here and take it?" she said sweetly.

"Just take it and throw it. Yes, just like that. Good girl- OUCH! What the fuck, it landed on my head!"

"That's were she was aiming for, Christopher…"

"Jared, you're back! That was a swift job…"

She cleaned her hands and went to greet her friend. They were friends since an incident seven years ago, including her, them as ambassadors of the anarchists of L.A. and a Lynx ambush. It had long ago become personal with the Lynx.

She took off his coat and continued the preparation of dinner. There was no need for a scarf with these two, they knew and they had accepted it. Besides, it was obvious she was too fast and skilled in war to be a human female and these times, the people of Earth were more open-minded that a century ago. Mostly because of the constant change technology was bringing. She was introduced to technology from the beginnings of its existence, and so she was completely familiar with it. Her previous world still haunted her in her dreams but she had totally adapted to life in this place...

As soon as she had finished dinner, she knew something was wrong and it was coming from outside. As if she was pulled, she checked for the daggers in her hips and grabbed her gun. Leaving her two companions speechless, she opened the front door and got out in the winter's cold.

It was like a trance. But she trusted her instincts, they had saved her many times before, so she didn't resist.

-------------------- -

Half an hour later, freezing, she stopped in front of the park. Christopher and Jared were right behind her. She scanned the area and then she saw him. A lone figure lying near the pond. She came closer and gasped.

He was a silver-haired ellon.

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Lothlórien, Middle Earth

Third age. Year 2855

"Orc raid!"

"How many?" Haldir had never seen his younger brother Rúmil so distressed.

"They are hundreds and Orophin with half the wardens is two hours from here. He can't come in time. We are only twenty three Haldir…"

"I know, but we can't leave. Gather the wardens and tell them to take posts on the trees in formation three."

"But Hal-"

"They are two many Rúmil, I know. Now do as I told you."

There were truly more than two hundred of them, more than Haldir had faced in a single attack for three hundred years. The battle was hard, even though he and his wardens were fighting with skill and agility. But when he rushed to Rúmil's aid, he got cornered. Before he realized it a sharp blade pierced him and he saw… blackness.

----------------------------- -

His last coherent thought was that he had lived his death.

What he most certainly didn't expect was to wake up in a cold place with a beautiful elleth in black garments, staring through wide eyes at him.

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That was the first chapter! Love it? Hate it? Please let the poor writer know!