𝗟𝘂́𝗺𝗲̈,𝗜𝗻𝗱𝘂𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗿 𝗔𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗼 | LOTR & Marvel Crossover [PART3]✓

12 | Love Over Blood

12 | Love Over Blood

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Illyria Strange | The Eternal

Location: School of Engineering, Oxford, UK, Earth

Time: August 2027

The honest statement she could probably say towards a magical elven cryptid was exactly the moment they landed upon a metal grillage in the middle of an Oxford college laboratory.

"Now that was...so much better than the Silmaril alone," Illyria groaned, stumbling forwards to grab the handle.

Despite her head spinning and whatever was inside her wanting to un-inside in the next five minutes – she didn't feel like she was going to throw up her entire organs in the next ten seconds. It would seem the other three that travelled with her seem to agree.

Unfortunately: Aegnor Arafinwion looked greener than his sun-kissed skin since it was his first-time experiencing Silmaril vertigo. But still, he could stand up without wanting to curl up in a ball, all because of his elven stature and all.

Honestly, Eru decided to make two races and somehow made one more 'derpier' than the other.

(Note: never will she call humans 'derpy'. Only for the sake of comparing her and the perfectly blonde himbo alongside the scary redheaded wolf and beach Shaggy with no Scooby.)

Once she was able to stand up, Illyria picked up the satchel she dropped onto the staircase and took a ragged breath. Maedhros was already down, putting away the photoresistor suit and headed towards one of the countertops. Meanwhile, Maglor was looking about, his eyes panning around before he spoke in a slightly worried tone to them.

"We should be quick. The Silmarils together are already a risk," He noted.

Right. Well, that wasn't something she considered. Technically...three Silmarils if it included herself.

Her thoughts were then paused when she spotted a figure walking around the console. Once the familiar face looked back at her, Illyria held her hand up as a gesture and greeted: "Finneas."

Fëanor was dressed in his usual lecturing clothes, with the nicely primmed tweed jacket and the fancy oxford shoes. If he wore a bowtie and a fez he might even join Darcy's list of characters she would definitely hook up with if she weren't engaged to her dad. Thankfully Illyria didn't see enough of the Eleventh Doctor in the reincarnated elf enough to remark it. She didn't have to have another scowling match with Maedhros for constantly finding some appeal to Fëanor.

What was wrong with that? It wasn't her fault that his dad dressed pretty damn good.

Unfortunately downgraded by looks would have to be his attitude. And the moment his mouth opened; you could probably tell why. Fëanor eyed them before he glanced back at her and said, "You brought new people." He made a soured expression before he added cautiously, "Please tell me it isn't your sons."

Firstly, that was rude. Her sons were perfect gentlemen when they arrived. Well, gentle-Ellyn to be specific.

Apart from the nagging and joining up with Harley to basically terrorize him with more gen z personas in one place, Illyria thought they were well-behaved. At least they didn't set anything on fire when they were here.

Or at least set anything on fire that was important.

(She made sure to replace Uncle Wong's kitchenware before they left, considering the mess they made in the Sanctum's kitchen.)