Chapter 11 - I can't breathe

Glorfindel and his party made towards Imladris in all haste. The captain commanded his followers to ride for two days without a meal or rest, in hope to make it in time to save the lives of one of their comrades that was sustaining a mortal injury.

They reached Rivendell in the dead of the night, and made straight to the houses of healing.

They made it just in time.

Lord Elrond himself tended after Alathor, whose body was festered with poison from goblin's arrow.

"There is nothing you can do for him right now except to let him rest," Elrond informed.

Glorfindel nodded and turned to his party who was waiting by the entrance of the infirmary, all with concern in their eyes for the life of their comrades. "You heard what Lord Elrond said. You all ought to rest. Eat," Glorfindel said with an impassive expression. "I am going to stay a bit to give my reports."

"I'm not leaving," a voice sounded among them. Rubin came behind the other soldiers, goblin's blood still marred his armor. His eyes were stormy with e mixture of remorse, guilt, anger, worry and determination. "I'm not leaving here until Alathor wakes."

"There's nothing more you can do," Glorfindel said with sympathy.

"He's there fighting for his life because of me. He saved my life," Rubin said with clenched jaw and pain in his eyes, "It is my fault that he lays there right now–"

Glorfindel placed his hands on Rubin's shoulder, stopping Rubin on his speech, "It was not your fault. It was an accident, Rubin." Rubin shook his head in disagreement. "...And if that answer doesn't satisfy you, and you still need to to find someone to blame, it should be me, because I am your captain. I am responsible for all of you," the Golden One stated the last bit as he looked at each of his weary followers, before looking back to Rubin, "Go home."

Stubborn elf that he was, Rubin looked like he was about to argue. Glorfindel lifted his hand to silence him, "It's an order from your commander," he said with finality in his tone.

Despite their worry, the weary soldiers dared not to oppose a direct order from the captain that they respected and trusted with their lives. All six elves bowed their head in unison before leaving the premises.

"You must rest too, Glorfindel. You are exhausted," said Lord Elrond.

"You haven't heard the report I bring," Glorfindel said, while his eyes fleeted towards the unconscious form of Alathor.

"I get the general idea from the way which you came," Elrond said light heartedly, trying to cheer up his weary friend, "Besides..."

Glorfindel watched as Elrond looked at his finger. His eyes caught the sight of Vilya, the ring of power that the lord of Imladris wore all these millennia. Glorfindel reprimanded Elrond.

"I am not supposed to see that ring. No one is," the elf warrior said with an upset look on his expression, "Conceal it from my eyes, Elrond."

"I am reserving the remaining power in the stones. I will no longer use my magic to conceal it. For now, it is safe enough."

Glorfindel looked at his old friend with shock. "Don't tell me..."

"The power of the ring fades rapidly," Elrond told him with a heaviness in his voice, "I am barely able to keep the protection magic along our border in place."

Glorfindel grew even more troubled now. Same thing was happening to Galadriel in Lothlorien. If anything, Lothlorien's situation was a bit more grim that Rivendell, for every now and then, now orcs and evil presence managed to slip past through the realm where Galadriel's magic was at the weakest. And soon, Rivendell would face such a thing as well.

And soon, the race of elves would be forced to consider the option of exodus to Valinor and leave Middle Earth behind.

"The reports can wait tomorrow afternoon after you are well rested. That is an order," Elrond said the last part with a friendly smile on his face.

Glorfindel sighed, but nodded. "I will be back in the morning."

As he made his way towards his chamber, he looked at the wing in which Mila resided. A small, wistful smile made its way to his face. He didn't know how he should feel when he sees her again.

During the almost nine months that he was away, he never sent her a single letter. He tried. But his letters would eventually ended up burning in the firecamp. He didn't want to send her any letter, and hope to receive one back from her. He didn't want hope. The elf thought that it was for the best, yet he found himself filled with hope whenever a monthly messenger came to their encampment in Fangorn Forest, bringing letters to the army. He had hoped to hear from her.

Either it was a punishment, or a blessing, she never did write him anything.

Glorfindel bathed and washed away the grime and orcs blood that stuck on him from the journey. It was a particularly warm summer night, so Glorfindel didn't bother to put on his tunic after his bath and pulled out a comfortable white sleeping pants.

He did try to sleep, but he was far too anxious for Alathor. Glorfindel sat up on his bed and massaged his temple, clenching his jaw. He was off his guard when the ambush happened; as a captain, he failed to see the signs.

Glorfindel made his way to the door of his balcony. As he stared at the night summer sky, he prayed to Eru that Alathar didn't have to pay for his mistake. If he could trade place with Alathor, he would rather be the one lying on that bed in the infirmary.

The golden one noticed a presence the moment he stepped out of the door. When he saw her, the pupils of his eyes dilated with delight. Words of description would never be enough to do her any justice.

Mila was standing there at the balcony next to his chamber. How should he describe her?

The mortal woman looked up at the stars with her long dark hair unbound, cascading beautifully down her shoulders in gentle waves. Her form was clothed in a pure white sleeping night gown that somewhat portrayed her innocence. The light of the moon cast a shadow through the thin elven fabric that she wore so exquisitely, and let him see the delicate curves of her form. One side of the tiny strap of her dress slipped down her upper arm, yet she didn't seem to notice, for all her attention was towards the starry night sky.

Bathed in the stars and the moonlight, Mila was like a vision. The elf warrior find no strength within him to take his eyes off of her.

He stood in perfect silence where he was, without her noticing, with his eyes fleeting across her form, drinking in her appearance. He did not move, as if she would disappear if he does. There was a pensive look on her pretty face as she gazed up to the sky. He wondered what troubled her. He never quite saw her being so still and melancholy before.

Despite the urge to comfort her, he still dared not move nor make a sound. He was far too selfish, because he wanted to make this moment last for as long as he could, for he never looked his eyes upon anything more beautiful than Mila.

Glorfindel loathed himself now, knowing that nine months away trying to forget her was of no use. Because now, he found himself loving her, in ways fiercer than before he left Rivendell.

Now, for his own selfish reasons, he wanted her. And he wanted her terribly, all for himself.

Mila took a deep breath and let out a long exhale. She brought her right hand up her neck, tilting her head slightly and closed her eyes as she tiredly massaged her neck.

Did she even know what she did to him? What kind of desire she stirred inside him?

Mila sighed in defeat. She spent much of her time just gazing at her star, hoping to find answers that was far beyond her reach, literally and figuratively. Though her body was tired, her mind couldn't seem to shut up.

She was about to turn back to her room when she saw Glorfindel leaning against the balcony of his chamber, looking at her with his gentle eyes and a fond smile.

He chuckled lightly when he saw her surprised expression. "Stargazing, are we?"

"Glorfindel!"

Mila suddenly didn't know what to do with her eyes. She swore at herself inwardly, praying to a higher being to not let Glorfindel see the blush that had crept up her neck at seeing him and his... magnificently, perfect shirtless body.

On the outside, Mila was excited to see him again after such a long time.

"Glorfindel, you're back!" she exclaimed happily.

On the inside, Mila was panicking, because she was having trouble keeping her eyes off of his body.

Mila had guessed that he had an amazing body, but she never saw him being shirtless before. And boy, he was like a perfectly sculpted statue of a god made flesh and blood. She cursed herself for wanting to reach him and run her hands all over his chest and stomach.

To sum it up, the elf was jacked in all the right places, and he had sixpack, and he was all muscles and manliness, and he radiated sexy. It took all her willpower to not to stare at the way his pants hang loosely at his waist, hiding the sculpted v shape on his lower abdomen that led to–

Nope! Nope. Nope. Nuh-uh.

"How long have you stand there?" Mila asked, moving to the side railing that was closer to Glorfindel's balcony. The golden haired elf copied her movement subconsciously. "When did you arrive?"

"A couple hours ago," he said with his signature charming smile. He gestured to her with his hand, "I didn't know you're moving in Lindir's old chamber."

"Yeah. The twins made me," Mila mumbled, not sure how to explain why to Glorfindel.

"We're neighbors now."

"We are, aren't we?" Mila chuckled. Seeing his smile again, she began to hate these metal rails that separated her from him. "I missed you."

Glorfindel's eyes softened as he responded. "I missed you too."

Both were oblivious to the fact that the line they exchanged didn't seem enough to do their true feelings any justice towards each other.

"How was your trip?"

"The trip back home..." Glorfindel said, softening the true direness of their experience. He figured that it was late, and Mila could hear it later in the morning, "...Could be better."

Mila nodded despite seeing the reluctance in his speech. He was probably tired. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"And I'm happy to see you again, Mila. But I must ask, why are you up at such an ungodly hour?" he asked in mild concern.

"I just can't sleep."

Now that Glorfindel looked at her closely, she seemed more tired than usual. "Are you having nightmares?"

"No." Nightmares were no stranger to Mila by now, but since tonight her sleeplessness was because of Varda, she didn't count her response as a lie.

But clearly, Glorfindel could see right through her. "If you do, we can see Elrohir tomorrow after we catch up. There is a sleeping tea that can help prevent night terrors."

"It's nothing really."

Glorfindel smiled kindly. "For now, why don't you try to get some sleep? It is way past your bed time, little one."

"You make me sound like a baby," Mila protested, but was unable to hide her amused smile.

Glorfindel leaned his weight at the railing of his balcony, feigning deep thoughts. "You, compared to my years..."

"Yeah I know I'm a fetus," Mila replied with a snark, making Glorfindel laugh. "Oh! Before we go. Wait. There's something I want to give you."

With that Mila skipped off into her chamber and got out later, carrying something in her hand. Glorfindel smiled upon gazing at his beautiful human again.

"What is it?" he asked with a smile.

"It's a welcome back gift," she beamed, having wrapped it inside a piece of fabric. "I intended to give this to you a long time ago but I keep on forgetting," she said as she stretched her arm across the space between their balconies to give the book to Glorfindel.

"Be careful, Mila. Hold on tight to the rail."

The space between Mila and Glorfindel's balcony, though seemed close at first, was actually further than she anticipated. The book didn't reach Glorfindel's hand.

"A little bit more–" she strained and failed.

"How about you give it to me tomorrow morning?"

"Let's try again. I don't want to keep forgetting giving this to you–oh no!"

The book slipped from her hand and tumbled down. Instead of falling to the ground, it was stuck on a crevice of the roof of the balcony on the floor beneath her.

Mila pouted when Glorfindel smiled at her with high amusement, seemingly find her clumsiness amusing.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why that thing has to go through a lot just to get to you. Even now, it's stuck on the spot where I can't get to," she grumbled, blushing in embarrassment at her clumsiness.

To her defense, how could anyone focus at the task at hand, while a shirtless elf with a glorious body and a destructively handsome face was looking at them so attentively?

"Wait. What are you doing?" Mila said in alarm.

Glorfindel got on the railing of his balcony and with ease jumped across to her balcony. He gave her his boyish smile before disappearing down low to where her gift got stuck. Then in no time, he climbed back up and jumped in to her balcony with grace, holding the book covered in fabric in his left hand.

No sweat, even his breathing was even. Damn, the stamina of this guy–

"That's incredible," Mila said with awe in her tone, "I would've been half dead with broken bones if I tried."

Glorfindel cringed at the notion. "I'd rather not."

Mila blushed when she realized that the shirtless elf was now standing within an arm's reach from her. From here, the magnificence of him was hard to miss, or overlook. Mila placed her hands behind her back to repress the unbecoming urge for her to touch his skin.

He made a move as if to return what he retrieved back to her, but she shook her head, smiling. "Thanks for fetching it. It's yours now. Open it."

Mila watched his face in anticipation as he unwrapped the cloth that covered the gift. When he saw what was inside, he looked at Mila confused.

"I overheard many months ago of you telling someone that you really wanted to read this book, but the library here doesn't have it. So I saw this at the bookshop in the village and thought of you," she explained.

Glorfindel looked at her with a rather surprised, but not entirely happy expression.

Mila cringed. "Judging by your expression, you read it already, don't you?"

Glorfindel had assumed that the book was important to her. So important that she almost frozen to death trying to get to it. He didn't realize...

"This book was for me all along?"

Mila was confused with his reaction. "Duh. I bought it for you," the mortal girl pointed out the obvious, "Look, if you have read the book, at least you can keep it to add to your collection."

Glorfindel looked at her pretty face with a mixture of emotions inside him.

Guilt. Disbelief. Anger. Fear. Affection.

"You almost died for this book, Mila!"

Mila flinched at the sudden raise in his tone. She blinked, not expecting him to be upset at her.

As soon as he raised his voice at her, Glorfindel regretted it instantly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you," he said with guilt in his voice, "You scared me, Mila."

Mila shook her head. "No. I was the stupid one–"

"–Don't say that."

"Fine. How did you even know I was reaching for it? You know what, nevermind. But what matters most is I'm fine. The book's fine. And I hope you haven't read the book yet," Mila finished with a small smile, still anxiously gauging his reaction.

Glorfindel took a deep breath as he gazed at her. "I haven't," he said softly before pulling her to his chest–his mighty, warm, hard chest, Mila noted. "Thank you."

Mila hugged him back, inhaling his signature masculine scent that radiated off of his skin. It was pleasantly heady and made her head swam. "It's the least I could do," she blushed.

The embrace didn't last as long as she wanted. Glorfindel pulled away and placed his warm hands on her bare arms, slightly darker shade of his blue eyes looked into hers seriously. "Promise me you'll never do anything like this again. Even for me."

Mila feigned a thinking look.

"Mila..." Glorfindel warned her with a smile.

"No promises."

"Not good enough for me."

"..."

"I'm going to sleep in your room tonight if you don't promise me," he threatened, "And come out in the morning through the front door for everyone to see. Shirtless too."

Mila's smug expression instantly turned into horror when Glorfindel countered her teasing with a much much terrible threat.

"I promise! Scout's honor!" she said quickly, while she was never a Scout Girl in the first place, and Glorfindel didn't even know what that was.

"Very well," Glorfindel chuckled in satisfaction, releasing his hand from her arm and held the book she gifted him to his chest. "So... Good night, Mila."

"Good night, Glorfindel," she replied, wistful, knowing that she had to part with him again, even only for the night.

Glorfindel made a gesture with his hand for her to enter her room first. She shook her head.

"No. I want to make sure you really leave the premises," Mila deadpanned, still a bit sore to be defeated by his threats earlier, making Glorfindel chuckle in amusement, "Besides I just want to see you make it across safely."

"You have so little faith in me. It pains me."

Mila rolled her eyes, "So dramatic, you," she chuckled softly, gesturing with her head, "Go."

Glorfindel gave her one last, charming smile, before turning towards the railing.

"Wait! Stop!" Mila's exclamation was filled with such a sudden urgency and alarm in her tone, that the golden haired elf turned to her again, alert.

Mila had a shocked, horrified look on her expression, her hands gripped at his arm. "Turn around!" she ordered.

"What–?"

"Oh my god, Glorfindel! You're hurt!!!" she exclaimed in horror.

The balrog slayer did feel a sting along the back of his right shoulders, but he was too taken by Mila that he forgot about it.

"Oh. It's fine. Just a scratch," Glorfindel said with a sigh.

"Scratch?! It's not a scratch, it's a gash!!!" freaked out Mila, "It's a bleeding gash!!!"

Glorfindel looked at his back again to check the wound. "You're overreacting. It doesn't even bleed that much. I probably pulled the stitches a bit when I climbed earlier–"

"–Why the hell didn't you tell me that before you climbed here?!"

"Please, Mila, stop screaming into my ears," Glorfindel said with a pained cringe but also with an amused chuckle.

Mila lowered her voice a bit, knowing that an elf's ears were much more sensitive than humans.

"This is not nothing. It could get infected. Why didn't you say that you were injured?" Mila asked with worry and sadness in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Glorfindel said earnestly, "I forgot. Besides this is nothing to me."

"Forgot this? This looks painful."

"Now that you remind me, it is," Glorfindel gave in, "But I'm fine, I can go to the houses of healing tomorrow to–"

"–Stay here," cut Mila before she turned into her room.

Glorfindel smiled to himself. He didn't like that he worried her, but he couldn't help liking the idea of spending some more time with her tonight, even for just another minute.

Mila came out holding a tiny container of salve in it, and a clean white cloth.

"Turn around," she ordered, a sad frown on her face. "I'm going to clean it a bit and put some athelas salve on it."

Glorfindel turned without a word and leaned against the rail of her balcony. He closed his eyes the moment he felt Mila's touch, dabbing at his battle wound with the cloth.

Upon closer inspection of the wound, Mila noticed how the stitches on Glorfindel's back must be made in a hurry in the wilderness.

"What happened?" her voice soft, concerned.

"We were ambushed two days ago by both orcs and goblins while we were resting in the wilderness," Glorfindel said, "Their number was too many, but we managed to kill more of them and send the rest of the dark creatures fleeing. Unfortunately, Alathor sustained a much graver wounds than what you see now."

He turned his head to look at Mila, whose eyes widened as she stared at him. "Is he okay?"

"He's in the infirmary. Lord Elrond said if he could get through tonight, he would survive."

Glorfindel could only compare Mila's touch to a feather as she nursed his wound. He turned his head, watching her expression as she applied the athelas salve on his upper right back. The melancholy that he saw earlier that night on her expression was back.

"Don't let this steal your joy, little one," he said affectionately.

Mila looked up to him under her lashes before quickly averted her eyes to his back. He noted her blushing, a happy occurrence that he observed more often lately whenever she was around him. He smiled to himself.

"I thought with the one ring being gone, we don't have to see this kind of things again," she said with a small voice.

Glorfindel turned, interrupted her work on his back, and placed his gentle, warrior hands on the soft skin of her bare arms. He looked into her eyes.

"The one ring might be destroyed, but while we're still here in this world, bones will still be broken; people we will eventually lose."

Mila rested her hands on Glorfindel's arm. The way she looked up to him both broke him and made his stomach fluttered in delight.

"I'm afraid of losing you," she said earnestly.

"My sweet Mila," he cupped her cheek with his hand, "I'm not going anywhere. All I was saying is that while the world still have its peril, you should never let that wane your spirit. The destruction of the ring have given us a chance to start over. This world is still beautiful."

The elf and the mortal woman locked eyes, standing close with their arms still in each other's. Glorfindel silently admired the beauty of her face as she looked up at him with much sorrow in her eyes.

With his heightened hearing, he heard her heart beating rapidly, matching his. The elf was suddenly hyper aware at the way her soft figure stood so close to him; the way their skin touched. The way her beautiful dark eyes reflected the night sky above them as she gazed into his eyes–oh how he missed those eyes.

Looking at her eyes, the elf warrior felt weak, especially with the way she too, regarding him as if she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

"Don't look at me like that, Mila," his voice low and husky, sending pleasurable chills that went straight to her back.

"Like what?" she responded to him with a small voice, finding herself breathless as she gazed upon the beautiful elf that had dangerously come close to stealing her heart.

"Like you want me to kiss you," Glorfindel said in his melodic, lover voice, "Because right now, I really want to."

Mila felt like she was boneless. She felt utterly weak and helpless, that she began to feel breathless.

Glorfindel had no more restrain left in him. He gave in to his desire and tipped her face up, closing in the proximity between them. He pulled her gently to him by her waist, gauging her reaction, as if waiting for her to stop him.

And when she didn't, he leaned down and pressed his lips on hers, giving her a soft, loving kiss, just the way he often daydreamed for a long time.

***