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Rated: 13+ · Novella · Fanfiction · #2295381
My LOTR romance fanfiction. Glorfindel x female OC. Hurt/comfort. Slow build. Happy ending
"So..." Mila nudged Glorfindel, her brown eyes glinted suggestively, "That elleth look cute, don't you think?"


"Psst, sexy elleth at twelve o'clock!"


"There's a group of elves of Greenwood coming here. I heard the ellith are of unusual, wild beauty. Have you met them?"


"Glorfindel, would you look at that elleth! Wow, she's destructively beautiful."


"What do you think of her? Sweet, eh?"


"I know that elleth. Lady Enim. She's so kind and graceful. She's has the personality of an angel."


"Look at her. Look at how gentle and delicate she is. It's like her every movement is a dance."


Mila gasped. "Ooh! What about Variel? She's beautiful inside and out and you've been friends with her even before my great-grandmother was born. She's a warrior yet she is funny, humble. And gentle too–oh my gosh, she's perfect for you! Why haven't I considered this befo–"


Mila bumped straight onto Glorfindel's solid form as she raved about how perfect Variel was for the elf. Him being much bigger and stronger than Mila, meant that she was the one doing the tumble. Before gravity could defeat her, a firm yet gentle hands quickly steadied her back on her feet.

"Careful," Glorfindel said with amusement in his azure blue eyes, "What are you trying to do, Mila?"

Mila feigned innocence. "Just giving you away my free thoughts. I mean, Variel. She's a whole package, don't you think?" baited Mila.

The balrog slayer chuckled, crossing his arms against his broad chest. "She's my subordinate. I believe responding to that will be what you called a 'conflict of interest'."

"Well, that's not wrong. But you know, you still can't deny that love doesn't fit logic. After all, love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love," Mila shrugged.

"Love is love is love is love," Glorfindel repeated her, pondering the sentence meaning with a thoughtful smile. But the way those same words came out of his lips with his deep, angelic voice made it sound a thousand times more beautiful than Mila could ever did. "You are quite a poet, Mila."

"I stole that line from Hamilton," she muttered.

The golden haired elf only chuckled in amusement and chose not to ask about the out of the worldly reference and continued their walk.

"You know, she's single. Many ellyn tried to court her, but some seemed to be intimidated by her because of how badass she is. You? You're gonna be perfect, a match made in–ow!"

Mila bumped against Glorfindel's chest again, and would have stumbled again if Glorfindel didn't catch her.

"I know what you're doing."

Mila feigned confusion. "I don't know what you're talking ab–"

Glorfindel intentionally put on a dark look on his expression and began to stalk towards Mila, cornering her against the wall of the house of Rivendell. Mila being Mila, quickly cowered under the elf warrior's gaze and retreated several steps until her back touched a wall. Glorfindel put both his hands on the wall besides Mila's head, leaving Mila with no way to flee. He leaned down closer to her so their faces were mere inches away.

Mila swallowed thickly. She suddenly felt nervous and intimidated by the way Glorfindel's form trapping her. His broad chest; his big arms. His eyes were scanning every inch of her face, as if scrutinizing her. Looking at his impassive yet darkened gaze, she suddenly felt small.

And somehow quite turned on.

"I know a liar when I see one," he whispered lowly in her ear, his breath tickling her skin, sending a somewhat pleasant shiver down her spine. She could smell his faint musky, masculine scent mixed with the smell of leather that he wore on him.

He was intoxicating.

Glorfindel retreated his face away from her ear, just enough to look her in the eye. Mila began to suspect that Glorfindel would look exactly like this when he would interrogate an enemy. Using unrelenting, demanding gaze and a powerful silence that would make anyone cower–because how could anyone stand before such an intimidating figure and not blurted out all their dirty little secret?

"Are you afraid?" he asked with a rather husky voice as he studied her face.

Mila nodded.

"Good. Stop playing games with me and tell the twins to mind their own business."

Mila' mouth formed into an O.

Glorfindel released her, and his benevolent smile returned to him, as if nothing happened.

"Come on, little one. We must reach our destination before midday," he said lightly, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"H-how do you even know–?"

"I am the Captain of the Guard of Rivendell," he stated with a charming smile on his good looking face, "If I cannot identify someone spying on me, then I don't deserve the title."

Mila grumbled to herself.

"Besides, you're a pretty lousy spy."

"Glorfindel!" Mila protested, making the balrog slayer laughed lightly. "I just want to help you to be happy."

"But I am already happy," he answered matter of factly.

"Harboring secret feelings to the one you love–I mean love is a big deal for elves, right? You could be happier."

"From where I am standing right now," Glorfindel glanced at her, his voice sounded peaceful and content, though Mila could see the wistfulness lurked in his azure blue eyes, "I'm happy enough as it is," he said meaningfully to Mila, who unfortunately was too naive to perceive the love in the way the elf looked at her.

Mila had am unconvinced look about her expression. "Sounds tragic to me."

Glorfindel chuckled in amusement to himself, leading Mila towards the stables.

"Um, what are we doing here?"

"We're getting a ride."

"Oh. Is it a long journey? Had I known I would've worn pants today," Mila said, glancing down at her elven made dress.

"Suilad," The sable elf, Temar, greeted them with a courteous smile, "It is well to see you both, Lord Glorfindel and, little lady," Temar exchanged a playful look with Mila who feigned offense when being teased as 'little' by most of the elves she knew, including Temar.

Well, when the elves say little, they meant short, because Mila wasn't exactly a little dainty lady like most ellith.

"What can I do to help today?"

"Good morning to you, Temar," greeted Glorfindel back warmly, his expression lightly amused at noticing the playfulness between Temar and Mila.

Mila secretly glanced at her golden haired friend. Despite being of much of a higher rank than most people, Glorfindel never fail to treat everyone with dignity and kindness. He was humble and every bit of him was noble.

"...We'd like to ride to the village today," Glorfindel said, his striking blue eyes scanned the stables.

Temar looked at Mila, looking doubtful. "The last time you were here, you scared the horse. Is it a good idea?"

Mila blushed right down to her toe upon remembering her earlier memory in this reality–how she tried to mount the horse several times and failed, and giving not a small amount of anxiety to the horse she tried to mount.

"Don't worry. I will not leave her to her own devices," Glorfindel said with a charming smile to Temar, but Mila knew he was also teasing her. "Where is Asfaloth?"

"He's out grazing at the fields. I'll fetch him for you right now, my lord," said Temar before disappearing from the stables.

Mila, still as red as tomato, gave Glorfindel a sulking look, "I am very good at riding now. I'm a pro."

"They don't know that," said Glorfindel with a small, amused smile. "Don't show off just yet."

"Wait here." He walked out from the stables as soon as he saw Temar approaching with Asfaloth, Glorfindel's trusted steed in tow.

Mila hummed to herself and began exploring the stables as Glorfindel and Temar conversed in a distance. Her humming stopped the moment she laid her eyes on a black horse with a silver streak on his mane–the one she thought she would never see again.

He was standing there with his stubborn, intelligent eyes, neighing when he saw her.


Rivendell was under siege.

Under siege was probably a huge euphemism. Rivendell was fallen. Crumbling–quite literally. There were sounds and cries of battle, mixed with the pitiful wail of elves losing their loved ones. And screaming.

Lots of screaming.

The ground shook as the eastern part of the House of Rivendell crumbled, taking down both elves and orcs with it. Mila dared only look back once and hastened her feet as she ran along with other elves who could not fight, with tears and blood marring their once beautiful, serene faces, hoping to find safety in fleeing the once beautiful and safe haven.

But what was safety anymore?

Mila didn't exactly follow the elves that fled towards the path to the mountains. She made a sharp turn, away from everyone, wishing that the stables still stands. She knew what she had to do. Get to Lothlorien–with or without help from the mighty balrog slayer, Glorfindel.

There was no way she could wait for him, not when he too was fighting for his people and for his life. She would do this on her own. If she waited, she would've been dead far sooner before she could even fulfill her purpose.

The stables were empty. Mila groaned in frustration–she should've known! All horses must've been taken by every able bodied elves that could fight.

As she stared at her surroundings, bewildered, thinking hard in the midst of the confusion and chaos on how best to flee Rivendell and survive, and get to Lothlorien, she heard a neigh of a horse from the far end of the stables.

Behold, a mighty stallion with a black fur and a distinctive silvery strand on its mane, neighed in place, restless.

Mila was stunned by the sheer luck that she bumped into.

It took Mila a good two minutes to change her mind. It was no luck. The horse was crazy and untamed. It puffed and huffed and moved wildly when she tried to mount him. He even raised his front legs and whinnied, as if arguing with her.

"This is not the time!!! Would you please calm down?!" Mila growled in frustration, and fear, for the sounds of orcish growls from the distance began closing in.

The horse raised his front legs again, refusing to submit to Mila. The girl's face turned bright red and her eyes began to moist with frustration. The stupid horse not only look like the crazy horse in the movie Far and Away, but he also behaved the same way.

She didn't know what came over her, but out of desperation, without thinking she began to blurt out a series of quotes from her favorite movies that matched her situations as she interacted with the four legged animal.

As she struggled to hold the horse's rein, she growled, "I don't wish to fight you."

The crazy horse jumped again on its hind legs–and she did what Tom Cruise would do in such situation:

She punched the horse on the face.

Mila thought the horse was going to exact his revenge by kicking her or run her over, but to her shock, the horse seemed to be stunned by the punch she gave him, and for the first time, he stood still.

"Do you see what's happening outside? Do you want to be eaten by orcs?" she scolded the animal, "Let me ride you. Come with me if you want to live."

Mila let only a couple seconds of silence, letting the creature take in her words, before trying to mount him again.

"Hiyahhhh!" Mila yelled as soon as she managed to mount the horse.

The horse, despite his initial reluctance, was a diamond in the rough. He was an exceptionally strong and fast stallion. Amongst the people trying to flee, Mila felt like she was riding the wind.

Having a horse was a valuable asset.

Bubbles (as she randomly named him, mostly just to annoy the horse) despite his reluctance and disobedience in the beginning, proved to be a brave and tough companion. The black stallion was stubborn and hard to manage, but in dire need, she could always count on him.

Bubbles hated the name the woman gave her, but even he had to admit to himself that he grew rather fond of it. Besides, she did treat him with kindness, despite her unrelenting ranting along the way.

Sigh, women.

Sometimes, when she talked too much, he would on purposely nudged her forward until she fell face first on the mud.

He would of course, extended his courtesy and gratitude whenever the girl offered him some treats.

Bubbles watched as Mila found herself on a forked path, between getting food for herself or keeping him. He knew he was not an easy pet to have–ask his previous masters who all treated him poorly and gave him away–for he had far too much pride to be treated as a mere mute animal, and he wouldn't just let anybody ride him.

He was mute; but he wasn't stupid. He sees things. He hears things. He understands and perceives more than the humans know.

When Mila chose to go hungry and not sell him away when she had the chance–Bubbles was shocked.

"It's you and me. I'm not gonna leave you," she hugged his neck and brushed his snout. "Do you think you can survive being poor and hungry with me, just for a few days? Maybe we can find food in the forest."

The friendship between the horse and the mortal girl may have started with resentment, then diluted into snarky comments and sassy attitudes. But eventually their friendship grew into trust.

Being a noble descendants of the Mearas, Bubbles kept his honor, aiding and defending the rather useless human girl at most unfortunate times that seemed to always follow her.

And because he loved her, he willingly gave his life for her, so she could continue on her noble quest.

Mila's heart was shattered when Bubbles lay on his side and was unable to get up again. Through his one eye, Bubbles watched as his human friend cried and begged him to get up. As much as he tried, the wounds on his neck was far worse than any graze of any swords. It was infected with orc's poison, and Bubbles was in a lot of pain.

When the golden haired elf arrived and comforted her, then Bubbles willingly departed, knowing that his human was in the safe hands of the warrior.


"Lady Mila, no!!!"

Mila was opening the gate to the horse stable when the fear in Temar's shout sent an alarm in Mila's mind, effectively stopping her in her tracks.

Temar got to her first, almost skidding at the floor when he slammed the gate to the particular horse stable closed. His breathing was ragged when he looked at her.

"Elfaron is still a very wild horse," said Temar, still rather shaken as he secured the door, "I found him on the plains many moons ago, sick and starving, and nursed him back to health. He tolerates me, but to this day, no one else managed to tame him."

That was right. Mila forgot that at this point in time, she never have met the horse. She didn't even know that Bubbles' real name was Elfaron.

"Oh," Mila muttered, her eyes locked with Bubbles. "What's Elfaron mean?"

"The sky hunter," translated Glorfindel, who was already standing behind her.

Sky hunter.

No wonder Bubbles often seemed to resent her during their journey together. He was probably offended that she gave him a name that was a far cry from his actual, cooler name.

"I shouldn't have left you alone here. Please accept my apology, Mila," Temar said, bowing his head in regret.

Mila waved her hand quickly. "I'm fine, Temar. Really," she reassured him.

"You don't understand. You could've gotten hurt really bad," Temar muttered, looking concerned, "Elfaron kicked one of the stable boys just a few days ago."

"Ouch. I hope he's okay," Mila mumbled, giving Bub–Elfaron, a secretive teasing stare as if telling him 'you sassy little bubble'.

To Mila's surprise, Elfaron neighed at the look she gave him–much like the way he would do during her journey. Mila blinked.

Could it be–?

Glorfindel, noticing the look of recognition in Mila's expression towards the stallion, leaned down a bit to Mila. He too remembered the horse. "Do you know that there's a saying that a horse never forgets?"

Mila tried to hide her smile of amusement. "You meant elephants."

"No. Horse," insisted Glorfindel.

"Oliphaunts are evil creature. They know nothing of love, let alone have brains enough to remember," butted Temar.

Glorfindel continued. "Elves believe that horses carry their memories deep within their souls. Not just their minds."

Mila studied Bubbles' russet eyes intently, the side of her lips upturned when she saw the recognition in the horse's eyes. Mila's gaze softened at her furry friend.

"Strange," Temar tilted his head, "Elfaron seems rather calm today, even in the midst of strangers," Temar, being the only one that the stallion tolerated, bravely patted the horse's mane, "You like women, don't you? You sneaky boy. Here," he said as he feed the stallion with an apple.

After thanking and bidding goodbye to Temar, Mila followed Glorfindel out of the stables, her body there, outside, yet her mind was still with Bub–Elfaron.

Glorfindel tipped her chin up, bringing her back from her wandering mind. "We'll visit him again, when there is no one around."

Mila yelped when Glorfindel suddenly placed his hands on her waist and lifted her up so she was seated sideways on top of Asfaloth. He gave her a charming smile when he gracefully mounted his horse and sat behind her, his arms surrounding her as he held the rein.

"Why did you do that?" Mila blushed as her side was pressed against his warm chest.

"I don't want you to have to lift up your skirt to mount Asfaloth," he told her as they began their ride.

"It's just legs. Everyone has them. I don't mind if they look."

"I mind."

"Why? I mean my legs are not that captivating," Mila shrugged, then a teasing smile bloomed on her face, "Do you wanna see my legs?"

Glorfindel smiled in amusement. "Don't make me blush, Mila."


Glorfindel took her to the outskirts of the village, a distance from the border.

"Are we going for a picnic? Like a date?"

"Yes," Glorfindel said without skipping a beat, his smile charming under the sunlight, "Though I seem to forget to bring a picnic basket. Is lembas bread good for you?"

Mila's smile dramatically disappeared and turned into a scowl. "I am so done eating lembas bread."

Glorfindel let out a carefree laugh that seemed to light up his whole being. If Mila could, he would take a picture of him right now, so she would never forget the mirth on his beautiful face.

They arrived at a run down house that seemed to be abandoned for a long time. Glorfindel dismounted Asfaloth with ease before helping Mila down.

"Who are we meeting?"

"No one for now," he said as he secured Asfaloth's rein on a nearby tree.

He stood before her in silence, in all his glory. He was wearing a simple, silky white tunic and a pair of dark pants, completed with his leather boots, belt and his sword. He gave her a smile, waiting.

"Have you no guess whatsoever why I brought you here?"

"You're trying to kidnap me?" Mila guessed with a grin, "That house seems like a good place to kidnap someone."

"Huh," Glorfindel put his chin between his fingers, as if considering it, playing at her games.

"Doesn't look safe though. It seems like it is going to come down anytime now."

"That's too bad. I was really entertaining the idea of kidnapping you," joked Glorfindel with a playful glint in his striking blue eyes.

Mila giggled, and the sound was music to his ears.

"I bought this place," Glorfindel finally gave in.

Mila glanced at the run down, old house and cringed. "Seems like a very bad investment."

"I beg to differ," Glorfindel offered his hand for her to take, "Let me show you around."

Mila never felt more safe whenever her hands was in Glorfindel's. Unbeknownst to him, Mila wasn't entirely paying attention to the things that he was telling her when he described the boundaries of the land he bought. It was when he revealed to her the hidden path to the Bruinnen River near the house that everything clicked.

"Glorfindel," she gasped, her eyes wide, "Don't tell me you bought this for me?!"

The elf warrior had a hard time understanding her reaction. He thought she would be elated; but instead, Mila looked downright troubled. The bright minded warrior changed tactics last minute.

"No. I bought this for me."

Mila's brows raised. "Oh."

"I brought you here not for picnic. Or kidnap you," the latter made the little woman chuckle, "I'm here strictly for business."

Glorfindel noticed how he now had Mila's full attention. The woman now looked rather giddy, despite trying her best to hide it behind her business mask.

"Do tell me," she said, feigning ignorance, "What do you have in mind?"

"Your retirement plan. The bakery," he said, with his strictly-business demeanor, "I want to be part of and invest in it."

"Huh," Mila hummed, "Isn't this a risky situation? You bought this land before you even know if I want to be your business partner."

"If you don't I can always sell it. The price of lands goes up with time, albeit slowly."

Mila never thought that Glorfindel cared about anything but his job as the Captain of The Guards, let alone thinking of business. But the fact that they were there, and that he already had a backup plan in case she refused his proposal–Mila was interested now.

"What's your proposal?"

"My investment is this land. Now I cannot bake, but I think, once we are operational, we can split the profit by..." Glorfindel pretended to think it through before blurting out a random number, "...fifty-fifty."

Mila scoffed at his suggestion and folded her arms. Glorfindel looked at her with question.

"Is the offer not to your satisfaction?"

"Let me get this straight," Mila began, "You buy this land for me, expect me to tear that old house down and build my bakery, work on it myself, and when the business is successful, which it will, you want me to share fifty percent of the profit indefinitely while you do nothing when I could just... Pay off the price of the land myself in say, five years from the business profit I get by myself?"

Glorfindel looked at her in admiration and awe; both at her intelligence and her unrelenting spirit. He knew she was smart, but he didn't expect Mila to be quite such a competitive capitalist.

The golden haired elf touched his mouth with his fingers, momentarily thinking.

Mila couldn't help but look at his perfect lips.

He gathered from this negotiation that Mila liked challenge. So he would give her that, despite the fact that he cared nothing of money. All he wanted was to make her happy.

"I'm open for a negotiation that would benefit both of us," Glorfindel finally said with charming smile.

Mila smiled in satisfaction. "Seventy-thirty?" She suggested.

Glorfindel on purposely played dumb, "Seventy for me, thirty for you? Deal."

"No!" Mila laughed, knowing that he was teasing her. "In the long term, I will be the one baking the whole day, busting my ass off in a hot kitchen. I think I deserve more than thirty percent."

Glorfindel hummed, hiding his amusement at her seriousness. "Sixty," he gestured to her, then to him, "Forty."

Mila pursed her lips in deep thought. The movement quickly caught Glorfindel's attention, and for a while he forgot that he was blatantly staring at her. When he came to his senses, Glorfindel looked up to the sky, feigning thinking, while he prayed to Eru, wishing that she would stop tempting him–even she herself not realizing it.

"First of all, I'm going to establish a systematic procedure for the business, so you'll know I am putting everything in this. Then a marketing strategy. Then I'll have to think about manpower. Start up ingredients. Equipments. Distribution. And I haven't even delved into the cost of tearing the old house down, and building a new one, even the cost of the building material that would definitely cost me a fortune," Mila tapped on her cheek.

"Sixty-forty. Leave the construction of the house to me."

Mila hid her smile. "Eighty-twenty," she countered, making Glorfindel smile.

"Seventy-thirty," bid Glorfindel.

"No deal," Mila smirked.

"Seventy five-twenty five," he insisted, smiling to himself, knowing that this had to look genuine to Mila that he was doing this solely for the sake of business, or else she wouldn't accept his gift for her. "Let me sweeten the deal. I will help with your marketing strategy. I have connections that will definitely help grow the business."


"... And I will help by giving you my counsel about the distribution," added Glorfindel. "Take it or leave it."

The last bit must have worked on Mila like a charm. Glorfindel saw how much she wanted this–the simple life as she put it. And there was no greater joy to him than to help her get that life that she wanted.

"Deal," she said, beaming, sticking out her hand to him for a handshake.

"Deal," Glorfindel repeated, and took her small hand in his. He noted her firm grip. "Now, shall we seal this deal with a blessing?"

Mila raised her brows. "Is that part of elvish dealing?"

The elf warrior had a bright, handsome smile on his face. He shook his head. "No. But I do want to receive the blessing from my business partner," he said, leaning down his head.

His heart melted when he felt her resting her hands on his chest, and her lips on his his temple.

If the sweet peck she gave him was enough to make him feel this way, he couldn't even imagine if...

He looked up, his gaze soft when he looked at her.

"Bless me too, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel's didn't see that coming. Despite his racing heart, he maintained his playful expression.

"Where?" he asked her, breathless, not realizing that the butterfly in his stomach had made his voice dropped lower.

Mila only gave him a raise of her brow. And since she didn't verbally specify where she wanted that blessing, he decided to take an advantage and give in to his desires–or at least a part of it.

Mila stood frozen in place at the lingering kiss that Glorfindel placed on her cheek.

It was electrifying.

They both looked into each other's eyes, each having a battle inside them, for his innocent little kiss would forever leave a trace within their hearts.

Glorfindel had to pull himself before he does anything that he would regret. He gave her a charming smile as he offered her his arm. "Shall we go home?"

The ride towards the House of Rivendell was torture to Glorfindel. She was so close, soft, and her form fit perfectly within his arms. All he had to do was lean down to kiss her lips. But he kept his intense eyes on the road, steeling himself, not realizing that the girl in his arms was just as tormented as he.

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