Languages:

'Valari words/ or Erika's mother tongue'

"Quenya/Sindarin"

"Westron/Common tongue"

Disclaimer: LOTR and Silmarillion are properties of J.R.R. Tolkien and Tolkien Estates. None of the songs used in the story are mine too and only borrowed for entertainment purposes.

AN: By the way thanks again to those who follow and favs this random story, you have no idea what that means to me. Feel free to tell me if I make a grammar mistake. You can leave a review also but i'm not gonna push you to it haha. I love Silmarillion like crazy and this story will follow the bookverse.

Yallah let's eat chicken BBQ ლ(´ڡ`ლ)

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Chapter 7: Sweet Dreams and Beautiful People

He is a fëanturi. The master of dreams and the lord of visions. And it is him who usually guide the children of Eru through his subtle ways. Though it happens, it is a rare thing for Irmo to have visions of his own and when it does, it is of important matter.

Irmo was not gazing in Silindrin yet a vision of Ulmo came to him cutting the connection of his hair from the waters and thus losing the usually colorful reflections the droplets of water creates when light pass by it.

The younger brother of Námo witnessed the king of the seassung the song of life as he weave. Creating something by taking a part of him. Breathing a life inside a fana.

In his palm is a tainted fëa. Glowing with faint light, a shadow strings around it like a pest clings on a tree.

The vision changed and Irmo was taken inside a place full of broken mirrors that reflects fog-full of memories of someone. There were voices speaking in hush, in anger, in joy and other emotions all at once using a language unknown even to a Vala like him. He took a single step and the vision shifted once more, taking him to a cliff. In the west heaven, Arien drove the ship of Laurelin's fruitto set and just behind her was Tilion rising from the east with the ship of Telperion's flower. Sitting at the tip of the cliff and looking at the sky is a dark haired young female from the race of men.

He didn't move this time and waited for something to happen. Moments later, as if sensing his presence, the girl turned to face him. Her features are unknown to him but her brown eyes captured his own.

He felt a spark from the essence of his fëa as if saying that this strange young woman is somehow connected to him. Her eyes never leaving his, Irmo realized, this vision speaks to him deeper than what he expected. Who is this child?

As the vision ends, Irmo transformed to his spirit form and wandered off to his garden unto his lake trying to ease himself, floating in the air while collecting his thoughts. Ages have passed since the Atar gave him such complex vision and this one confused him more than his strange visions of Melkor negotiating with Ungoliant.

Sensing his agitation through their bond, his barefooted wife, Estë appeared in haste with worry written on her beautiful face. Her grey gown was wrinkled in her hands and Irmo almost smiled at her dishevelled sight. He rarely see her like this.

'My love, may you come down here to my tree and tell me what has you restless?' she glided to the small island in the middle of the lake of Lórellin where her favorite tree lies. She extended her dainty hands in the air, pleading for him to come down.

He decided not to distress her anymore and took form of his fána. Estë saw the knot in her spouse's brow. He normally has a relaxed visage paired with a gentle smile on his face. People come to him and his garden because his presence alone can calm a fëa from its worries and pain.

The Valier gently cupped his cheeks and pull him closely to her, easing his heart through the bond of their souls. In return, Irmo planted a kiss on his beloved's palms before giving her a small smile.

'I do not believe that Ulmo will repeat the misbehaviours of Aulë.' he voiced out his thoughts as if saying it to himself. The origins of the dwarrows was not a hidden secret among his brethren and it was a history. Forgiven and accepted as one of Atar's people. And through that act Irmo assumes none of his kin would dare to do it again. Yet Ulmo, one of the highest Vala and Manwë's closest friend might be doing or has done the same thing. And the fëa he holds in his hand, where did Ulmo get it? Did it not pass the halls of his older brother? Questions swarmed his mind as he try to give reasons to the usually kind and obedient Vala's action.

'I need to seek the counsel of my brother and the king. I'm afraid what I have seen is of importance.' with that in mind he then made his journey to Námo's halls.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Erika

He was standing just a few steps away from me, staring at me with his wise eyes so light grey it's almost white. His hair is the color of white ash yet that didn't made him look like an old man. In fact it added to his charisma and he's beautiful like a dream. Like he isn't real. In his face there is kindness, compassion, rest… peace.

He is tall. VERY tall, in fact I barely reach his hips. He can easily flick me away to oblivion if he wants to. His head glows with ethereal light which surprisingly didn't hurt my eyes.

Then I blinked… why the hell did I blink? The tall being who was staring back at me disintegrated like dust being blown by the wind.

There was a sudden gust of hot air coming from the bottom of the cliff. It blew my long hair all over the place. The wind was burning hot and I can almost feel it biting on my skin. I struggled to stay where I stood not only because of its hot pressure but also because the ground started to shake violently. I turn around and my eyes widen at the horrific sight of a gigantic demon with a burning head with two black sharp horns and a pair of huge bat-like wings. Below me there is someone struggling to climb back up. He is wounded and his face contorted in pain. His blood stained hair is like a gold glowing amidst the dark, his eyes are the most beautiful shade of grey and bright blue that I've ever seen.

He looks familiar. Have I seen him somewhere?

I tried to move and reach out to help him climb up but my limbs would not move. I pushed my body to move and break free to whatever is holding me but I feel like there's a hard steel covering my whole body. Not even a voice came out of my mouth when I tried to scream out of desperation.

Then the demon flapped it's torn wings elevating itself till it managed to reach those beautiful golden tresses and pull him down. The man's grip gave out, scratching his palms from the sharp edges of the stones. The demon was determined not to go down alone but the warrior would not go without one last fight.

The man shifted himself mid air, taking out the last short sword that was strapped at his side, and burst down with a battle cry. With the last ounce of his strength he plunged the blade right in the middle of the demon's chest where its heart lies.

And then there was warmth. That was the first thing that registered into my mind as bits of my consciousness came back. My eyes flickered and light seeped through to the slight cracks of my eyelids. I can feel the wind in my face, its slight whispering created such lovely music with the sound of trees rustling its branches and leaves. I can hear even the slightest stir of the green ones hanging by their delicate stems and the rolling of the dry, crisp ones down on the ground.

There's an absolute peace and tranquil silence that makes me want to go back to sleep. Hopefully this time with less disturbing dreams.

I cracked my eyes open and a white ceiling welcomed my hazy sight. I yawned big. How could a ceiling have such an intricate design? I scrunched up my face and covered my eyes from the brightness using the pillow.

Argh, for god's sake, somebody please close the curtain!

I was planning to snuggle up again under these unbelievably soft blankets but then memories of a wolf standing above me and sharp weapons pointed towards me came flooding into my mind. My eyes shot open and I scrambled up from the bed so fast, standing up and moving away from it like the mattress suddenly burst into fire.

'Where the hell am I?' I whispered to myself as my eyes scanned my surroundings. Now I realize why the room is so bright and windy. The windows are so big, it's almost like there's no wall anymore and only a see-through curtain serves as cover. Those curtains are currently wide open. And there are arches. Arches and pillars everywhere! The ceiling is high and the walls are lined with intricate designs of sculpted flowers, leaves, stars, trees and even faces. The designs are too realistic and very elegant. The floor was made of smooth marble and it matches the color of the room which is a warm white. The bed itself looks so grand, almost like a queen size bed with smoothened tree branches placed high in the wall serving as it's headboard. The side table has a vase full of colourful flowers, candles in various colours and an unlit oil lamp. Who uses an oil lamp these days? My grandmother even complains on her pink electric lamp that we bought in IKEA on sale saying it was too small and dim.

The owner of this house sure is a hippie. I remember, before I passed out the people with sharp weapons are also sporting weird outfits. 'Oh, shit.' I muttered. This could be a big trouble if these people happens to be some sort of middle age fanatic… lunatics in short! What kind of sane person would easily point sharp objects on others?

Last time a sharp object was pointed on my face, I was mugged. The unlucky mugger got only an old Samsung S2, and coins as I was coming from work and with nothing in my bag. Thankfully my metro card was in my pocket and I got home safely.

Still, when somebody pointed a sharp object on your face, it is always in bad intentions!

I looked at myself, I'm not naked anymore. My eyes widen as I check out this strange… I don't know, is it a dress? The color is in the shade of light peach and it reached my thigh with long and frilly sleeves. The design was simple that I can only compare it to my normal sleeping dress, only a little sophisticated and with less drawings. I saw my right leg bandaged and I frowned. I lifted the dress up when I felt a strange thing and found this weird looking, silky white tight short reaching to my upper thigh. A panty? Who put this on me?! And why does it look so weird? I reached behind as I felt discomfort from this weird underwear and decided to lift it a little higher. Now it looks like a regular boyleg undies minus the itchy frills.

Lifting my leg up into the bed I tried to pry on my bandages to check what's up with my wounds and also because it's just too damn itchy. Suddenly the door opened and a man with long brown hair came in carrying a large copper basin and a copper pitcher full of hot water.

We both froze as we look upon each other. To him, a slight surprise registered on his -eherm- handsome face as if he didn't expect me to be awake. In my face is a growing horror as I see a dagger hanging on his left side. He might have noticed my discomfort as I backed away from him.

He immediately looked away with a slight blush. "Goheno, híril nin." I have no idea what that means. "I did not know you are awake. Please wait and let me call Lord Nestaron." Who?

The long haired guy glided out of the room in such a graceful haste without giving me a chance to give a response. This is stupid, I don't know who these people are. They are carrying deadly weapons and who knows what they are planning to do with me. Only drug dealers and mafia carry guns as if anytime they would be attacked.

I have to get out of here.

I limp towards the window, cursing on my way as my leg is still sore. I stuck my head out of it and look at my surroundings. There's a perfectly designed landscape laid on the ground with well cared green grass, bushes and pots of colorful flowers, trees and there's even a big bird bath made of stone near where I am. Glad to find I am not in a high place, at least I know I can manage to get out of this room easily.

I climbed out the window, not anticipating the pressure it would give to my injuries. My leg throbbed in pain but not something I can't bear.

Out here, I can definitely smell the sea breeze. I sighed in relief, thankful that I wasn't brought to an unknown place. Maybe I'm inside the settlement that I saw earlier, the one with a white stone gate and port. Great, I'm close to the ocean. And I swear to god once I get back to it, I'm not gonna surface for at least a year!

Gathering all my courage and my strength, I ran away from the house, hiding from other's sight and determined to get away from this place.

I ducked low when I heard a commotion from where I came from. There was a voice shouting a command in that same strange language. I have a feeling they will now start to look for me. Crap, why did that guy have to be fast?

These damned injuries are making me slow but I can't let them catch me. I have to run fast. I turned right and crouched down behind a tall rose bush when I heard voices on the left side of the garden.

My back hit a wall and I look up to it. The wall and the rose bush probably reach until my chin and from here the smell of the sea is stronger. I gave a quick peek just to confirm my guess and I was right. Behind the wall was another damned slope going down to what looks like houses. Apparently, the house I've came from is set upon a low hill. And just meters away from the settlements is the sea and the familiar white stone wall with two watch towers.

Shit what am I gonna do? Should I just run past these houses? They will catch me for sure! But I can't just idle around or stay behind this bush for a long time, they will find me for sure! Should I go at the other side of this garden? Wait, that's a shitty idea. Maybe I should just run really fast and once I reach the water, I will swim as fast as I can. These people can't follow me once I'm in the deep. I have no choice, I have to climb this thing. God have mercy!

Not wasting my time, I stood straight and reached at the top of the wall. I used all the strength that I have just to lift myself up of this wall, grunting and cursing. Thankfully, I got used on dragging myself out of the water when I want to go into the dry lands. When I finally managed to lift myself up, I swung my injured right leg and struggled to shift to the other side. This painfully long hair is not helping this time as it tangled in my limbs and cover my face. I swear I'm gonna cut it short as soon as I get my hands on a scissor. I was trying to lower myself slowly but gravity pulled me down, I slipped and fell to the ground with an ugly yelp. Luckily the fall wasn't very high but I can feel my right leg starts to burn in pain and it suddenly became hard to breathe. I felt pain in my upper torso as if a big hand is squeezing the life out of my body.

I groaned miserably and gave myself a minute before pushing myself up from the ground. My leg injury is definitely bleeding again, I can feel it dripping sticky down to my feet but it won't stop me. I have to go back to the ocean.

I took a step. And another. And another. I realized the house where I came from was set on a hill and now I have to run down carefully or else I will tumble down again.

"Search for her, my friends. She is injured and probably scared."

I heard voices again. Even though I didn't understand what they've said, I still panicked. I looked back while running slowly trying to see if they are following me, it looks like they haven't figured out where I ran off too.

Just when I thought I was making progress, my right knee gave out from the pain and I almost fell down again if not for two arms that caught me. I struggled for a while, trying to push whoever is it that caught me but stopped after I heard a man's voice soothing me like a child. I was so out of breath and my ears started to ring might be because of panic and the rush of all things. The guy carefully pulled me to his chest and bid me to sit on the ground with him. Where did he come from? I didn't even hear him coming.

'Puñeta…' I cursed under my breath.

"Breathe… breathe slowly, my lady." a hand gently pat my back. The voice of this man is melodic, gentle… masculine. The very sound of it sent shivers down my spine and I found myself relaxing in his arms. Still not looking up, I noticed he has such a lush, beautiful, wavy golden blond hair. Such a huge contrast from my black ones which is by the way a tangled mess. The arms that hold me are strong and it may sound ridiculous but I feel safe. "Hush, melwen. Breathe."

There was his enchanting voice again. How can a man possess such voice?

I finally look up to him. As I did, he met my eyes with his and I almost gasped loudly. My breath was held into my lungs only to come out shuddering.

This man is absolutely an angel. No scratch that, he is an archangel, gotta give him the pedestal. His face held both strength and gentleness. His gorgeous, deep big eyes are far more beautiful than any jewels I have ever seen in my whole life. It was bright blue with a shade of grey shadowed by thick, long dark brown lashes. His nose was pointed to perfection and his lips are the most perfect shape I have seen on a man, with such red manly bow shaped lips pouting like asking for a kiss. The shape of his face is almost oval if not for his soft chiselled jawline and adorable chin. This man's picture can be put next to the definition of the word perfection in Webster's dictionary.

He is breathtaking.

And while I shamelessly study his features, he too stares at me. I can see his eyes roaming to my face but his emotions are carefully hidden. Unlike me, for sure my mouth is gaping open like a star strucked teeager.

I suddenly forgot what I was doing and when I remember, panic rose again to my chest. The hell was I doing ogling at this beautiful piece of art? I was supposed to be running back to the sea.

My eyes tore away from him and I look around me till my eyes sat at the sight behind him. The ocean is so calm. The ocean. I have to run back to it.

"I am going to lift you up and take you back to the halls of healing, híril nin. Please do not move or you will aggravate your stitches much worst." his voice… why does it have a strange effect to me?

'N-no… please. I-' and then I saw the sword that is strapped around him. Ten times bigger than the dagger of the other guy I met earlier in the room. I pushed the man away from me by instinct and almost scrambled away from him.

But he was strong and my attempt was futile as he held me closer and tighter to his chest. "Don't be afraid, melwen, I will not hurt you."

I grunt and added more force as I pushed his chest away from me while kicking my legs in protest. "You have a weapon!"

"Calm down, please." The man said in a soft voice while holding me firmly. He then ran his hand up and down on my arm as if soothing a child. "I have no ill intention towards you, my lady." He levelled his gaze to mine. "This sword is not for hurting people but for defending them." He reached for my face and gently cupped it making me look up to him. His blue eyes met mine and I saw nothing but honesty in their dept. "I swear in my mother's good name, I will not hurt you, nor the people of Mithlond will." he said firmly, putting his hand above mine and rested it directly on his heart. His face is pleading.

It took me a while to believe what he said, his eyes never left mine and I gave him a small nod. He then smiled and wasted no time to lift me up in his arms. He gave me a small smile when I yelped in surprise.

I didn't realize how tall this person is until he was standing in his full glory. He might even be above two hundred centimeters. If I stand next to him, I'll be reaching only till his chest!

I took a deep breath as I resigned to my fate but the act made me cough painfully and uncontrollably. Why is breathing so hard to do? Asthma attack? I haven't had them since eleventh grade but not as bad as this.

As if reading my thoughts, tall guy spoke gently. "Breath softly, melwen. Your lungs greatly suffered from thy fall before." He smiled to me revealing such perfect set of white teeth that made toothpaste commercial model pale in comparison. Worst of all, my stupid heart beat loudly. I have no weakness with pretty guys and honestly my friends found my immunity to them really odd but this one is just… I don't know how to call it but he just have this weird effect on me… on people maybe? And what cream can make your skin glow literally? Was that even scientifically possible?

His presence was so astounding that I even forgot what I was supposed to do in the first place. That's really great, Erika. If you're in a different situation, you just handed over your ass to the enemy. Well, I don't think this guy is an enemy. First of all, no enemy looks as beautiful as him. Haha!

The guy strides in a gentle manner but I can see that he is moving in haste, yet I barely feel any of his movement nor he made me feel uncomfortable. And I guess the adrenalin rush has worn off from my body and I felt instantly exhausted and nearly sagged down in his arms. He might have felt it too since he gave me a worried glance. It took such will power from me not to succumb to sleep. God, why does he have to feel so comfortable when I can feel how hard his muscles are just by leaning on his chest? I wonder how beautiful he is without his shirt on?

Despite my discomforts, my thoughts halted.

The hell? My mother raised me better than this.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Glorfindel

The peaceful noon has passed and Glorfindel joined Lord Círdan in his invitation for lunch. With Feredir and the other lord of Círdan's court joining them, they discussed about the border concerns over their meal.

Two days ago, Glorfindel found a young woman in the forest just hours of ride away from the city. She was garbless and injured with white wolves running after her. And from there concerns grow from what has happened from her to why the white wolves came down from their mountain and decided to hunt people.

Feredir and the marchwardens came back to the halls of Círdan to deliver a quick report about the safety of their borders. They decided to put more sentries to the border and send a small battalion consisting of two hundred warriors to guard and scout around the settlements of the Laiquendi. Glorfindel insisted that in case the worst turn to worse, the people there have at least a bigger line of defense and Galdor agreed.

After the dinner, the four of them continued their conversation to Lord Círdan's workplace with a retainer serving freshly brewed tea. Feredir then asked about the well-being of the young lady they found as he just came from the patrol.

Círdan then answered. "Lady Heledh said the young lady is now fine and will recover in few days with three days of strict bed rest. She suffered bruisings particularly in her back. It might be from the break of her fall, a laceration on her leg and few scratches but nothing that can threaten her life." the Teleri took a sipped on his own cup of tea, his face is serious and dark. "Initially I assumed the worst when I heard from Glorfindel that she was found unclad but my heart was glad as the healer told me that she checked the young woman herself and found no sign she was violated."

Feredir sighed in relief. With Heledh being his wife, Galdor, knew already the circumstances of the mysterious young woman but still murmured his thanks to the Valars.

Glorfindel uttered a silent prayer of thanks to Eru. He was the only one who saw the horror in her eyes before she lost consciousness and that sight was engraved on Glorfindel's mind.

That day he came rushing to the halls of healing with her small form in his arms. She was light and delicate and his heart ached at the sight of her pained body. He felt uneasy as the healers and Nestaron took her from him but they let them do their work. And while Glorfindel is also knowledgeable in the art of healing, he did not interfere with the works of the healers but stayed outside the halls for hours until Nestaron announced that she is now out of the woods. He then came in to see her and sat down on the chair next to her bed.

He smiled unknowingly as he took sight of her now dirt free face and leaf free dark hair. His eyes gaze at her small and unusually beautiful face. Her features are delicately strange and something Glorfindel haven't seen on anyone both eldar and men alike. Her face is almost the shape of heart but her cheeks made it hard to discern. It was soft and slightly chubby, like a child's cheek. Her button nose is small yet perfect and delicate. Her forehead is narrow and noble, and her facial bones are the softest Glorfindel has ever seen. Her face is like a child yet clearly she is not. Her pinkish heart shaped lips are partly open due to her having a hard time breathing.

She is adorable. A word Glorfindel never have used to describe an elleth or a woman unless one is but a child. Celebrían would certainly throttle him if he refers to her adorable rather than stunning. And even though, Glorfindel mean it in a good way. As he gaze upon her face, the ellon's lips smiled unknowingly.

Only a meeting with Lord Círdan and his council tore him away from his vigil on her bedside. Nestaron promised to look after her, suggesting that the young lady might feel frightened once she awakes.

Two days later she is still deeply sleeping. Glorfindel himself knew that it is only normal since her body is recovering. The healers attended her dedicatedly, giving her small sips of water with medicinal herbs that Nestaron himself prepared and singing to her songs of healing that was sung in the Gardens of Loríen.

Glorfindel continued with his promise to give small training to the young warriors of Mithlond, and since they are out of sentry duties due to the dangers that possibly lurks outside their borders, he used this opportunity to give them lessons about the importance a marchwarden's duty during the reign of Thingol. Since they are in awe with the stories of the past ages, Glorfindel thought it is a good start. Feredir and him also devised a training plan based on Ecthelion of the Fountain's very own training regime and needless to say, the young ones are positively thrilled.

Currently, Glorfindel is walking his horse, Rhosfein at the fields of Mithlond while giving him sliced apples as a reward for his performance earlier on the training ground.

"You know you should be at least considerate to the young ones, they admire your strength and speed." Glorfindel told his grumpy horse Rhosfein who just gave him a snort as if saying he does not care about the others."Fó, do not be like that, my friend. You should allow them to at least caress your mane. After all, they feed you when I am not around. I saw Arasseg gave you peeled peaches yet you acted like a brat." He often use Ñoldorin Quenya when he speaks to the horse not because the horse prefers it but sometimes Glorfindel just missed speaking the old tongue.

The horse chewed the tips of his golden hair, clearly not happy with his lecture. Glorfindel was gently prying off his hair out of the horse's teeth when the animal suddenly raised its head up looking to the right side as if sensing something, his hair forgotten.

Glorfindel heard a sudden commotion coming from the lord's manor and he immediately climbed up to the unsaddled back of Rhosfein, riding up to the hill where the manor proudly stood. That is when he heard voices asking to look for a certain injured young lady. And right now there's only one patient in the healing halls of Círdan the shipwright.

Rhosfein then bobbed his head up and down, whining and kicking the ground before taking off without his command. He asked the horse to stop but the stubborn steed continued trotting down at the other side of the manor's garden.

That is where he saw a young woman pushed herself up from the ground before running limply down to the foot of the hill. Glorfindel jumped down from his steed and followed her on foot. He heard the wheezing of her breaths and worry started to blossom in his heart. Even from the distance, he can see the blood flowing from the bandages of her right leg. The Ñoldorin lord run faster.

The young woman staggered on her feet and luckily he was already there before her knees gave out. Glorfindel caught her heaving form. It wasn't long before she pushed him away, hitting and trying to slide out of his hold.

For someone whom he did not even know, Glorfindel has no idea why he became so concerned about her. Was it because he found her and felt responsible?

"Hush, melwen…" Glorfindel tried to sooth her, sending out a calming energy to her body. She went limp in his arms and Glorfindel felt the strong and rapid poundings of her heart. Her breath is short and heavy. She exhausted herself which is not good in her condition, the bruisings of her lungs hasn't recovered yet. Glorfindel sat himself on the ground and pulled her in his chest, allowing her to bask in his warmth and in his power.

He heard her utter a word in a language he hasn't heard before and Glorfindel almost smile in amusement as he realized that she just cussed. "Breathe… breathe slowly, my lady." He said to her while gently patting her back, trying to soothe her pain. Her long dark hair almost intertwined on his golden ones and he felt her tremble as he continued to rub her back. "Hush, melwen. Breathe."

He gave her time to calm down and moments later, her head moved up to meet his gaze. Glorfindel felt a gentle sensation pass through his body as her brown eyes landed on his blue ones. The world around him slowed down and he was just there, studying her face. And though he have seen her before, everything seems different now that she is awake. Her soft visage looks almost exotic, something he have never seen on anyone. Her eyes have the shape of a wild almond, small yet wide open and upturned, clear, defiant and bright. Her eyelids are weighed down by thick black eyelashes which is now soaked in unshed tears. His heart felt like being squeezed at the sight of her pained look.

Her eyes then move to look behind him and then darted around as if panic is starting to rise up from her again. But he will not let her hurt herself again, and before anything else happen, Glorfindel settled her legs properly in his arms. "I am going to lift you up and take you back to the halls of healing, híril nin. Please do not move or you will aggravate your stitches much worst." He told her in a gentle voice.

She then spoke again in another language, might be her own tongue. 'No…' she protested in a shuddering voice. 'P-please. I-' her eyes moved around in panic before it landed on the sword that is strapped in his left side. The delicate eyes widened at the sight before she thrashed and tried to scramble away from him.

But she was powerless against him even if don't exert force just to stop her from moving around. Instead, Glorfindel held her closely, whispering to her ears words of assurance that he will not harm her in any way.

She continue to kick defiantly and push him away, finally speaking words he can understand. "You have a weapon!" She said in Westron, mixing the words with her thick accent.

Glorfindel did not let go and his hold did not wane. "Calm down, please." He said while caressing her arms and levelling his gaze with hers. "I have no ill intentions towards you, my lady. This sword is not for hurting people but for defending them." He was glad to see her listening, stopping her movements and thankfully her kicking. Nestaron will not be happy once he sees her ruined stitches.

The ellon reached his hand up on her cheek, finding it softer than the softest bread that he had hard time smothering his smile. He took the hand that is now tightly gripping his tunic and guided it to his beating heart. "I swear in my mother's good name, I will not hurt you, nor the people of Mithlond will." And Eru knows, his mother Findis will never let him hear the end of it once she found out he deliberately hurt a lady. The oldest daughter of Finwë is a fierce elleth, some elves even compared her to Fëanor in a good way.

A short moment later, the young woman finally nodded. Glorfindel did not waste more time and lifted her in his arms, earning him a small yelp. He smiled at the surprise in her face. His steps are fast but careful with the intention of taking her back to the healing halls as soon as possible. She was coughing and wheezing and later she sagged on his hold. The rush of her fear finally leaving her.

She is still conscious when they reached the entrance of Lord Círdan's manor with Nestaron running towards him.

"My lord! What happened to her?" He gasped at the sight of her. "Let us take her back to the healing halls."

Glorfindel strides in haste, reaching her designated chamber in a short time. But when he was about to lay her down, the young woman held his tunic tightly. And though she is struggling to speak, her face pleaded him to stay.

And he did. Instead of going out of the room to give them privacy, Glorfindel sat on the bed and took her hands to his. If Nestaron noticed anything, he did not voice it out and just focused on preparing a mixture of medicine that might ease the young woman's pain.

"My lady, I need you to take this medicine. It will help with your pain." The healer told her gently. "My lord, please help her to sit upright so she can breathe easily."

Glorfindel shifted himself and gently lifted her to lie in his chest once again while Nestaron took the cup of medicine in her lips. Her face contorted in disgust as the bitter taste of the medicine filled her mouth but she did not complain. Glorfindel took the cup from Nestaron and asked the young woman to take the medicine slowly. Two elleth came in and started to help out with her bleeding leg. And though she is not coughing anymore, the healer encouraged her to take deep breaths as it would to ease her air passages.

Nestaron and one of the elleth whom he knew as the wife of Galdor, hissed at the sight of her swollen wound. "It needs to be stitched again. I will go and prepare the numbing balm." Lady Heledh said before she started to mix herbs in one corner of the room.

Edraith, the other elleth brought a copper basin filled with warm water on the side of the bed. And while Nestaron mixed athelas on the water, Edraith prepared a waterproof cover above the bed before she placed the young woman's leg above it.

Nestaron gave her an apologetic look. "This might hurt a little, my lady, but we have to wash the wound. I will be very gentle."

The young woman gave the healer a determined nod. "It's okay. I can take it."

And though they have no idea what 'okay' means, the healers proceed and gently pour the athelas infused water on it. Glorfindel held her tightly as she struggled to hold in her pain.

"Fuck!" She exclaimed out loud with eyes burning in pain. Yet despite the raw pain in her face, never did she flinched away from the healers, or worst, kick them. The elves, on the other hand, are dumbfounded to hear such a vulgar words coming from a young lady. Glorfindel didn't fight off his grin this time, deeply amused and intrigued with this young woman. At least this time she cussed in a language he can understand.

All throughout the treatment, she stayed awake and even watched as Nestaron redid the stitches of her wound. Lady Heledh finished her numbing mixture and applied it on her wounds before they proceeded. Glorfindel tried to turn her gaze away from it in fear she would be traumatized but she told him the word okay again. Glorfindel was itching to ask what is the meaning of it but decided not to. An hour later she is properly bandaged and breathing steadily. Nestaron then asked Glorfindel to help her lay down on the bed elevated with a big pillow. She looks quite embarrassed when the blond warrior lifted her up like it's nobody's business but he just gave her another smile and sat down on the chair next to her bed.

"Are you not sleepy, young one?" Lady Heledh kindly asked.

The girl shook her head. "No, miss. I… I think I slept enough." And for the first time, Glorfindel saw a smile formed on her face. "I'm sorry for all the racket. I didn't mean to give you guys a lot of trouble."

"It is alright, penneth. I'm just glad that you are well." Nestaron handed her another cup and reluctance instantly painted on her face. "Don't worry, it doesn't taste bitter as the other one. This is Miruvor and it can give you strength." she then nodded and accepted the cup like a child listening to her father. Her face lit up as she tasted the drink made by Elrond himself and if Nestaron didn't tell her to take it slowly, she might have drank it like a dwarf chugging down their ale. She then uttered an apology with shy yet curious look on her face. Glorfindel watched as emotions pass on her face. Her facial reactions are so expressive that he can almost read what she is thinking just by watching her.

Heledh then spoke again. "I am called Heledh daughter of Borthand. The stars shined brightly upon the hour of our meeting. What is your name, child?" a question Glorfindel wanted to ask too.

All eyes are now on her and she look around shyly before giving an answer. "I'm Erika. Uh… yeah. May the force be with you." she then said before giving them an awkward smile as her stomach growled loudly.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Rough translations

Fëanturi - masters of souls. Titles of Namó and Irmó

Silindrin - cauldron of Telperion's dew used by Irmo to reflect his visions (like how Galadriel use her mirror)

Fana - (Quenya) the form/bodies used by the Ainur.

Arien - the fire maia who guides the sun

Tilion - the maia who guides the moon. secret admirer of Arien.

Melwen - (Ñoldorin Quenya) dear girl/dear one