Mila (A Glorfindel Fanfiction)

Excuse me miss, I think you broke your elf*

[Author's Note: This chapter contains censored smut (no graphic body part descriptions) that is essential to the plot. I hope you don't mind, and if it is bothering you, please skip the marked paragraph beginning and ending with (*). Enjoy, and please see my notes at the end of the chapter.]

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"My lord?"

"My lord?"

Elrond visibly flinched when he heard the familiar voice of his advisor. Eyes still squeezed tightly, feebly hidden behind his lifted hands, shielding him from the opposing light. When the lord of Rivendell braved himself to open one eye, he was expecting to be completely blind. Instead, he saw Erestor's wary expression through the space between his fingers that was in front of him, still shielding his eyes.

Blanched and bewildered, Lord Elrond carefully removed his hands from his view. Gone was the blinding light that had violently stabbed into his cornea, even through his closed eyelids. Gone was the garden and the serene music of crickets and the myriads little garden bugs of night. In its place, the ancient elf found himself sitting at his study room, in his chair, with Erestor, Gandalf and Saruman. Then he noticed with confusion, amongst them were Arnor, the leader of the Rangers of the North; Indossa, the emissary from Greenwood, and finally Haldir, representating Lothlorien.

The company that surrounded him differed by their looks and their origins, yet one thing was similar about them: they were all looking at him with wariness and-

Glorfindel. He was standing at the corner of the room in his full armor, his sheathed sword by his hip, standing like a statue as he had his body turned away, his keen eyes scanning Rivendell through the window of his study. Unlike most people, the golden one favored being on his feet during councils if he can help it. Pacing slowly, critical eyes observing his surroundings in whole. More often than not, he would gaze out through the windows, or at available exit points, as if looking for any first sign of trouble. Always alert, preparing for the worst at any given moment. Such was the golden one's habit during indoor meetings. He would perk his ears at the matters of the discussion, listening attentively, critically turning everything he heard in his mind, yet a part of him that was a soldier to the bone, would always be wary with his surroundings. Nothing escaped the captain's ever watchful eyes. For millenias, it had been long become his second nature.

The sight of Glorfindel, how he stood so straight, almost proud with his calm and controlled visage, put a stop to all of Elrond's train of thoughts immediately.

Erestor was the one who moved first. The wise elf came towards Elrond, placing a hand on Elrond's shoulder as he approached with worry in his expression. The wise advisor had never seen the lord of Rivendell so out of it, and in such a blink of an eye.

"My lord," Erestor repeated again for the third time, "What is it? Is something amiss?" he inquired, "Are you unwell?"

Erestor's voice had apparently startled Glorfindel. The golden one remained in his spot by the window, yet when he turned his head towards Elrond's general direction, his ancient gaze were stunned.

It took only seeing Glorfindel blinking, taking in the room as if for the first time, to let Elrond know that whatever this was that had transpired, didn't just occur to him.

Elrond observed the faces of his guests and recalled his memory. This had been the council, the day of the first breach at the village. But how was that even possible? How on Arda were they return to the past?

With widened, almost strange looking eyes, Elrond stood up from his chair. "My apologies, my friends. But I must adjourn the council. I have a pressing matter to attend to," he said with urgency in his tone, "We will reconvene tonight. Everyone may leave-"