Hello! Quick announcement: I've gone back and edited Chapter one since I noticed a couple of grammar and sentence errors; no major parts of the story were altered.

Reviewers:

EvilBunny91: Thank you for the review! I didn't realize there were other stories like this haha, guess I'm not being that original, but hopefully it'll stay interesting for you!

mandiecandie: I'm glad you like it so far!

Disclaimer: I hold no claim to any of the canon characters, only my original characters.


Coming upon a small narrow pathway up a tall hill, the horses soon slowed to a gentle trot. Mirian was much too shaken to even utter a word since they left the woods, but the sight before her momentarily took her mind away from it.

"Woah…" It was a beautiful cityscape, with splendorous architecture clearly visible even in the darkness of the night. There was faint illumination throughout, the most prominent source of light coming from the moon which gave it an ethereal glow. Hearing the astonishment in her voice, the blond haired man riding with Mirian looked down with a small smile.

"Does it impress you, little one?" Mirian didn't even have half the mind to call him out on calling her 'little one' and she just nodded her head, captivated by the beauty that was Rivendell. The blond looked back at his companions and said something in their native language. The city's effect on Mirian seemed to wear off now as they neared a bridge, and she turned to the blond.

"By the way, who are you?" The blond turned back to her.

"My name is Glorfindel. I do believe yours is Mirian, am I correct?" She nodded, but still gave him a weird look when he said his name to her. It wasn't a common name, that much she was sure of. Glorfindel then looked ahead of them as his horse Asfaloth came to a steady stop after crossing the bridge. The other horses followed suit and their riders dismounted. The one riding with an unconscious John requested help from the other to get the man down from the horse, being extremely careful since John had sustained more severe injuries. Glorfindel got off Asfaloth, then helped Mirian down. It didn't take long for others to rush down a flight of stairs toward the group. A rushed conversation was initiated between some of the riders before John was carried off.

Mirian turned to Glorfindel with a look of worry. "Will my dad be okay?" Glorfindel looked down at her and nodded.

"Yes, he is in good hands with the healing elves." What he said at the end puzzled the girl.

"Wait…did you just say elves?" The sound of doubt seemed to amuse the Lord slightly.

"Why yes, we are the elves of Rivendell. Have you not met an elf before, little one? I do suppose you are yet much young to have…" Mirian shook her head.

"Wait, that's not—elves don't really exist…are you guys WoW or LARPing nerds?" It was Glorfindel's turn to give her a weird look. WoW? LARPing nerds?

"I fear I do not know what you speak of." Mirian sighed and gave a roll of her eyes.

"Of course you, gotta stay in character at all times." She muttered under her breath. The elf could not for the life of him comprehend the things spewing out of her mouth, so he decided it best to just ignore it and let Lord Elrond deal with it.

"You have sustained some injuries as well. Perhaps it is wise to get them treated right away." He said, now walking in the direction of the Houses of Healing where Mirian's father was taken to.

"I'm fine, they're just scratches." She mumbled, but Glorfindel shook his head.

"Even so, they could possibly get infected, and that would not be something you would want." He said, before seizing the conversation and staring ahead. As they walked, Mirian's eyes kept looking left to right, trying to wrap her head around this bizarre place which she had no doubt about it being just a very elaborate set for nerds who liked to act as if they were in medieval times.

'This is a freak's place…I don't know if we should be here. For all we know they could be a bunch of whack-jobs.' She thought, them now entering one of the buildings and a strong scent of medicinal herbs hitting her nostrils. Mirian's nose scrunched up; she hated the smell of medicine or hospital smell in general. Glorfindel led her down a long hall and into an open room where elves moved about with herbs, washing the leaves and preparing several ointment assortments. Mirian rushed past him and to a bed where John lay, still unconscious.

"He's not…he's not dead is he?" She asked an elven woman who was a bit startled by her direct approach. Glorfindel sighed a bit, but he couldn't blame the girl for worrying about the man's health. It must've been truly a scare for her. He came up behind her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"He will be fine. They are treating his wounds, and you must now have yours looked at." Mirian hesitated a little when he led her to another bed to sit down. Two other elves came up and started looking over her scratches; some were actually deep enough to have caused some minor bleeding. Glorfindel turned to the other three elves that had come along.

"Make haste to Lord Elrond and alert him of what has happened. Have more guards secure the borders of Rivendell in case there are other orcs lurking about." He told them, earning a curt nod as they then left to carry out their orders.

"Ouch." Glorfindel turned back around when he heard Mirian wince. One of the healers had dabbed a bit of the ointment on one of her scratches that supposedly stung.

"Apologies, young one." He said sincerely, before being more careful with his treatment.

"It's okay." Mirian said, though she was still acting cautious around them, something the Lord had taken instant notice of.

'Does she not trust us even after we saved them from those wretched orcs?' He thought. Her and the man she called 'dad' (what he now came to assume it meant 'father') wore some strange attires he had yet to see anyone in all Arda wear. The girl's clothing in particular brought him curiosity, for it was not common for mortal girls to wear anything other than dresses. Perhaps it was a new custom that was starting among the race of men…

Once her wounds have been treated, Glorfindel decided to take her off to a room so she could rest while the other healers continued to treat her father. One healer had assured them that John was going to be fine and that he would likely reach full recovery within a week or so. Mirian's expression seemed to relax a little when they told her that, but it didn't keep her from having a lingering doubt in her eyes.

"Mirian, if I may ask…what were you and your father doing in the woods at this time of night?" She looked at him and almost seemed to grimace when he reminded her.

"We were trying to get out of it, but it was too dark…and then that thing, that…what the hell was it?" Glorfindel figured she was talking about the orcs.

"Those things are called orcs. Fell beings, wretched and cruel in nature. It was indeed quite a strike of luck that you were heard by my company and we were able to reach you in time."

"Uh huh…" The Lord nearly frowned at the unconvincing tone she gave out. What was with this child?

'The race of men, I will never fully understand them.' He thought, before they reached another hall and walked down, him eventually stopping at a door and opening for her.

"You may rest here for the meantime. I will have some servants bring you some food shortly…and have them draw a bath as well." He didn't want to be impolite, but the smell she was giving off was that of a drenched rodent mixed with dirt and herbs, a combination not that appealing. Mirian said nothing to that as she walked in; the room was just as impressive as everything else in that place. The bed was carved out of fine wood, with intricate yet simple designs making up the headboard and the posts. The other furniture around the room was equally carved out of wood and with similar designs. There was a balcony that had a great view of one of Rivendell's gardens. Needless to say it was like a fairytale room, in her opinion.

"So um...thanks for, you know…saving us and all." She awkwardly said as she turned back to the elf. Sure, she thought they were whacks, but if the attack was real, and to her it really did feel real, then them stepping in and killing those orcs was really a godsend. Glorfindel smiled and gave a small bow of his head.

"You are most welcome." With that, he turned and left so she could have her privacy while settling.


Glorfindel proceeded to the study room where Lord Elrond resided. He hoped that by now he had been fully notified of the situation, and that he could perhaps provide some answers regarding the strangers. Upon reaching the Lord, Glorfindel touched his forehead in a manner of greeting and respect. Elrond smiled curtly and motioned him to come forth.

"I trust that our guests have been made comfortable?" Elrond spoke, with a look of calm and wisdom as he always did.

"Yes, my Lord. The girl has been taken to a room for rest, while her father remains in the Houses of Healing in recovery." Elrond nodded before he stood up from his seat, his fingers lacing together as he walked down the small steps to stand in front of Glorfindel.

"It would appear that the sighting of orcs has increased among the outer walls of Rivendell." He stated, a notion that Glorfindel noticed greatly displeased the Lord of Rivendell. He felt the same.

"Yes, I have sent word for more guards to secure the borders."

"Good. We must make sure that this realm remains protected from evil for the sake of the residents, and our new guests. I do not like the mere thought of my home being threatened." The golden haired elf nodded in agreement. It was much too close a call, and he feared that had he and his company not been scouting around the woods at that time, that Mirian and her father would not have survived the orcs' attack. Another thought crossed his mind and his eyes cast down to the floor.

"My Lord, Thandir has fallen…one of the orcs…" He couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence. The loss of a fellow elf friend was always heartbreaking. Elrond himself frowned slightly at the news, though he already knew of what had become of him.

"Yes, my sons have told me. It is most unfortunate…we will have a lament for Thandir later in the evening. May his bravery be looked upon kindly in the halls of Mandos." He lowered his head briefly, murmuring a small bit of prayer for the fallen elf's soul. Glorfindel closed his eyes momentarily as his keen ears listened to the prayer, before he opened them back up to look at Elrond when he finished.

"My lord, have you any thought as to why the humans were in the woods? Or why they appear to be…peculiar?" He didn't quite know how to phrase it, because both gave an air of unfamiliarity. Lord Elrond looked to Glorfindel, his eyes reflecting that he didn't quite have the answer to that yet.

"I have not reached any theory as of yet, for I first wish to speak with our guests once they are fit to meet. For now make sure that they are cared for, as this is a hospitable home and I wish to remain it so."

"Yes, my lord." Glorfindel gave a small bow before he left the study room.


John's eyes began to open, but they quickly shut when rays of sunlight blinded him. He turned his head away and with a small groan, tried to open them back up.

'Where am I?' He thought, his blurred vision gradually readjusting so now he could look at his surroundings. He noticed he was in a room of sorts, with other beds lined in neat rows. He looked down and he himself was in a similar bed. He also caught the scent of herbs as he tried to sit up, but seized his attempt when met with the soreness of his body.

"Ugh, damn…" His hand reached for his left arm, feeling a fabric similar to gauze wrapped around the length of his forearm.

'Well, at least there's no pain now.' He thought positively, him now taking the time to survey the rest of the room. Upon closer inspection, it looked like an impressive infirmary, and there was a wide balcony leading out of a wood framed double door. The outside scenery was what momentarily caught him off guard, just as the cityscape had done so to his daughter. At this moment, an elf approached his bed.

"You have awakened." John's eyes instantly turned to the elf who addressed him.

"Huh? Oh, yeah…how long was I out for?" The elf raised a perfectly sculpted brow.

"You have not left the Houses of Healing since your arrival." It was John's turn to raise a questioning brow.

"What? No, I mean how long was I asleep for?" The elf now resumed a calm expression.

"You were unconscious for the majority of last night and this morning. It is high noon now." John sighed and ran a hand through his hair, but then another thought struck him.

"And my daughter? Is she alright?" He would never forgive himself if something happened to Mirian while he was unconscious.

"Do not fret my friend, she is well." Said another voice, headed their way. The elf healer bowed to Glorfindel who did the same before he scampered off to see to his other duties. The elf Lord then turned to John.

"How are your wounds? Do they hurt?" John stared at him, for a moment saying nothing, before shaking his head.

"It's not hurting anymore, just sore." He said, and Glorfindel nodded.

"You said Mirian was fine, but where is she?" He asked now.

"She is resting in one of our lodgings. Do you wish for me to bring her to you?" John instantly nodded.

"Yeah, that would be great thanks." With another nod, Glorfindel set out to bring the youth to her father.

John let out a sigh of relief after he left. Good, she was safe. His thoughts then went back to last night and he frowned. Just what in the world was going on? What in god's name were those things? He might've mistook those ugly creatures for people with a lot of makeup, but the events that happened, the snarl and the chase…it all felt too real.

'I must be out of my mind.' He thought, as it wasn't the first time he's been delusional. There was one episode when he and Mandy were still together, and things just took a wrong turn…

He shook his head, not wanting to remember that part of his life. He had to come to terms that even though he felt like the place and the people were a little on the odd old-fashioned side, had it not been for Glorfindel and the others he and Mirian would've been made supper for the orcs.

John now tried to sit up again despite the soreness, and once he adjusted his body enough he leaned back against the headboard and breathed out a long sigh. His eyes kept to the view outside the balcony. Well, if anything this place also had an air of pleasantry.


Glorfindel made quick steps around Rivendell. Not too long after he left the Houses of Healing had he made way to where Mirian was staying, only to find out that the girl was not in there. Now the elf Lord had the tiring task of tracking her down, and he hadn't the slightest clue as to where she was.

'Valar give me strength to not lose my patience. This girl has an air of deviousness just as the twins had when they were elflings.' Thought the disgruntled elf, having circled around Rivendell for nearly 15 minutes now.

Glorfindel was a respected Lord, having slain a Balrog all on his own and granted resurrection from the Halls of Mandos due to his bravery. But even a mighty warrior like himself felt at a loss when dealing with younger children, and his time spent trying to keep Lord Elrond's sons from causing too much chaos in their early ages was testament to that. Oh, they were the trickiest pair of elflings he had ever had the misfortune of dealing with. Not that he disliked Elladan and Elrohir, but their keen sense of adventure in the form of pranks and jokes was enough to send the poised Balrog slayer into a fit of anger from their constant misbehavior. Since they were Lord Elrond's son he couldn't deal with them as he liked, but all the same he did not let them off easy, oh no; Glorfindel always made sure that each time they caused trouble they would get the most severe punishment possible, hoping that they would eventually learn their lesson. They never did.

It was a miracle that, with their coming of age and learned wisdom, the two actually became fine ellons and brave warriors, patrolling around the borders of Rivendell to assure the safety of their people residing within. His mind was brought out of that small recall of the past when he stopped short to the sound of music being played.


-Earlier that Afternoon-

Mirian had woken up late morning due to a stressful time in trying to get some sleep. She couldn't stop her mind from replaying last night's events, but most importantly she couldn't shake off the terrifying image of the orc's face; it was as if it had been imprinted in her mind. At one point, she had thought of the possibility of it all being a set up, but how could she explain the orc eating the arm? It could've been a prop, she figured, but the way she saw it…it just didn't feel fake or rehearsed. It was unnaturally real. Her mind kept trying to find every possible excuse in the book, and the more the list grew the more doubt she had. Elves? Orcs? Who in the world would come up with that mystic nonsense if not for fantasy nerds?

Shaking her head, Mirian got out of bed and walked over to the balcony, a breeze instantly hitting her face. She grumbled as some dust got caught in her eye and she tried to rub it off. At least these 'elves' had good manners, having brought her a good spread of food that night as well as drawn a warm bath (on a very old-fashioned tub of some kind) for her to wash up. She had to admit the bath did wonders to her sore body, and it felt good to relax after so much running and getting scared out of her wits.

'Well, since I'm here might as well go check this place out.' She thought, going back into the room and trying to tame her wild hair to the point that it was decent enough before dressing in a weird choice of clothes the elves had also brought for her the other night. When they tried to bring her a dress she argued her way into having them actually bring her a pair of pants and shirt. She noticed that the woman who had previously brought the dress didn't seem all that pleased with her request for male clothes, but she shrugged it off.

'This is, weird…' She thought, looking down at herself; she had on a moss-colored tunic and dark brown pants. Ditching the boots in preference to her sneakers, she at least had to admit the clothes were really soft and comfortable. After dressing, she slowly opened the door, looked down the hall both ways, then quietly slipped out. She walked for a while, passing a lot of intersections until finally reaching the outside. She took a deep breath of fresh air before crossing down to a stone walkway and carrying on.

In the first 20 minutes of walking, Mirian noticed that the city was a perfect combination of man-made structure and wildlife. There was no sign of any kind of industrialization; no cars, no technology…

'A.K.A. the candyland of LARPing nerds.' She thought while passing a few strolling elves, who gave her curious looks. Mirian rolled her eyes.

'They act like they've never seen a teenage girl before.' She was coming up to a fork on the pathway, and was just about to head straight ahead when the sound of music hit her ears and she stopped. Curiously, she looked to the left where the walkway branched off, and for some reason turned and walked down that path. She walked until coming upon a clearing with a white octagonal-shaped gazebo in the middle. Vines naturally curled up and around the posts of the structure. She walked closer to it, drawn by the music still being played from within. An elf with long dark hair much like many others she saw was seated on a bench, his fingers expertly running over the strings of a harp. She looked on as the elf played the enchanting music. Mirian didn't know why she was so taken with it, or why her body decided on its own to have her approach the gazebo and walk up the platform where the elf was.

He looked on as she approached him, before slowly ending the melody.

"Is there something you wish of me?" He respectfully asked. Mirian looked at him, and for a few seconds she said nothing. Finally, her mind broke loose of the strange spell she was in, and now avoided his gaze by looking anywhere else, embarrassed.

"I uh…I heard you playing, so…got curious." She about groaned at how stupid she sounded, but the elf smiled still.

"I often enjoy playing the harp. I have taken quite a liking to the sound of the strings; they form such a harmonious tune..." He said, fondly stroking the smooth wooden surface. Mirian looked at him oddly before slowly sitting down on another bench.

"So you're like a musician then." The elf gave a nod of his head.

"We commonly use the term 'minstrel,' but yes I suppose musician is also accurate." He said. Mirian nodded and looked at the harp; just like everything else in that place it was carved in the finest and most elegant way possible while keeping to a theme of simplicity.

"That's cool. I can't do that…I suck." She said, earning a confused look from the dark elf.

"Pardon, did you say 'suck'? One does not need sucking in order to play a harp—well, that is unless you are in possession of a pipe or flute then I guess you would need to use suction…" He muttered. Mirian stared at him for a second, before letting out a short laugh.

"No, I mean I can't play any instruments." She clarified. The confused elf now grasped the meaning.

"Where you come from, do you use such…odd words to describe certain things?" He further prodded, as it was very curious to him the way this girl spoke. Her accent alone was uniquely different from the common Westron tongue.

"Guess people around here don't really use slang." She mused now. Turning his head slightly, he couldn't help but ask the meaning of 'slang.' He did not understand why Mirian gave him another weird look when he asked this.

"Well, slang is kind of like…like giving an alternate term for a proper word, umm…" She didn't know how to explain it well.

"Might you provide an instance for me?" He tried to assist. Mirian fell silent as she tried to think up an example. Before she could come up with anything, footsteps were heard coming their way; at least the elf heard them.

"There you are!" Breathed a slightly flustered Glorfindel. The elf Lord made way into the gazebo.

"I have been looking high and low for you, little one." He said, earning an annoyed look from Mirian.

"Stop calling me that, I have a name." She grumbled. Glorfindel was slightly taken back by her biting tone, but tried not to let his frustration show as he turned to the elf she was with.

"I hope she did not disturb you, Lindir." He said, while Lindir offered a smile and gave a slight bow of greeting.

"Lord Glorfindel, she was of no trouble to me. We were just carrying on idle conversation." He assured. Nodding, the elf Lord now turned to Mirian.

"I came to find you because your father wishes to see you." At the mention of her dad, Mirian instantly stood up.

"He's up?" She asked, but before Glorfindel could confirm she dashed off in the direction of the Houses of Healing. Glorfindel finally sighed in annoyance while Lindir gave a soft chuckle.

"Does it bring you memories, my lord?" He questioned knowingly, while Glorfindel gave him a look of distress.

"Do not remind me…it was difficult enough at the time to keep those two at bay, and now this girl's lack of decorum…" Lindir shook his head and looked at his harp.

"You must understand that she must feel quite misplaced among us elves. By the looks of her age, I have heard instances where they are keen to act rebellious toward their elders." Glorfindel looked away as the notion of disrespect itself sent unpleasant vibes throughout his body. He just hoped that he wouldn't be placed as the caretaker for that girl while her father healed. That might just be enough to do him in…


John looked up when he saw Mirian hurry over to him. Seeing her looking unharmed made his conscious ease up more.

"Dad, are you okay?" Was the first thing she asked when she came up to the bedside. John smiled and nodded at her.

"I'm fine hunny, just feeling a little sore is all." He said. "What about you?" He couldn't help but still ask, just to be sure.

"Fine, they patched me up and all, but dad…" She leaned in closer to his face.

"I don't know about this place. Everyone here is so weird, I mean…they think they're elves!" She whispered. John raised an eyebrow at her when she said that.

"Elves? No hunny, you must've heard it wrong. They're just, just…actors or something." He didn't know how to explain it himself.

"No dad, I'm serious. They really think they're elves. They got the pointed ears even, I saw it." She insisted. John was skeptical, although he did notice the pointed ears on the elf healer he first saw when he woke up, and then on Glorfindel…

"Well, whatever they are or whatever they're doing, we still need to be grateful for them helping us out. I don't think they're bad Mirian, if they were they wouldn't have patched up my injuries." He said, but Mirian shook her head.

"But what if they're from a secretly twisted cult where they brainwash people to think they're elves living in a place built like something out of a children's book? Seriously dad, I think we should get out of here." John frowned a little. To some degree he kind of agreed with that logic; these people were a little too odd. They all spoke with English accents, save for whenever they talked in that foreign language he still had no clue as to what it was.

"I don't know hunny, I can't really do anything since I can barely walk. We just have to be careful and hope that nothing bad comes out of this, I guess." He wished he could've phrased that with more confidence, but right now he just wanted to get going on his healing so they could get out and go back home. Mirian sighed in defeat as she sat down on the edge.

"God, what am I gonna do in this place?" She asked no one in particular. John felt her frustration, and gently placed a hand on her arm.

"Everything will be fine, Mirian." He said, trying to ease the girl's mind. She looked at him, at first unsure, but eventually accepting.

"Okay...guess we just have to play along until you're better again." She muttered. John smiled when this was said.

"I promise the minute I feel better, we'll get out of here and find our way home." John said, and this time he hoped he could keep his word.


Here is chapter 2! I hope you liked it. I was initially going to incorporate some elvish in there, but I couldn't find any good fit translations that could work with the phrase, so I just opted to have it said in English.

Please keep reviewing so I know if I'm doing well with this, thanks! x