My LOTR romance fanfiction. Glorfindel x female OC. Hurt/comfort. Slow build. Happy ending
|Sounds of faint incoherent words escaped Mila's lips as her dull eyes fixed at nothing in particular at the ceiling of the infirmary. Glorfindel stroke her forehead comfortingly, noting that her usually glowing hair was now seemed lackluster from her ailment. Her complexion, though had gotten better yesterday, now appeared pallid and waxy.|
"I don't understand. She had been better yesterday," Glorfindel glanced at Elrond with an unsettleness, perplexed. "Why is she suddenly collapsing like this?"
With skillful hands, the lord of Rivendell turned her body sideways and worked to undo the bandage at her back; his expression troubled upon seeing the still blackened veins around the stitches. "Her body hasn't fully flushed the poison out of her system," he said grimly.
Glorfindel frowned. "Can you do anything?"
"My magic only slows the poison. To this day, we have no antidote for this particular orcish poison," explained Lord Elrond, "What we can do is manage the symptoms and keep her comfortable. Watch her nutrition intake and make sure that she keeps taking the athelas brew," the dark haired elf said with sympathy in his troubled eyes as he studied her wound. "Aside from that, we keep hope and pray that what I did is enough to give her body time to heal itself."
Glorfindel's eyes stung at hearing the defeat in his friend's voice. If the lord of Rivendell, the best healer that Arda had to date was unable to help her, then...
The golden one placed his hand on his forehead, closing his eyes as he took a deep, shaky breath. Fighting with himself again, Glorfindel put on his mask of impassiveness while he struggled not to crash mentally-just like the way hope threatened to be crushed violently again in his heart. Looking back, the elf warrior preferred to face the wrath of a balrog than to feel this way. This... powerless.
No. Mila is strong.
He slid his hand down to his mouth as he helplessly watched Elrond changing her bandage. Another healer came back and forth bringing crushed athelas plant and put it on top of her wound.
Glorfindel felt useless and utterly lost when he saw the blackened veins around her stitches. Morose. He didn't know what to do with himself as he watched her small frame laying there on her bed, fighting for her life. Crestfallen and guilt-ridden, the elf warrior almost didn't have the energy to get up from his chair to leave her for his duty.
"I beg of you, Glorfindel," a male voice from beside him sounded as the golden warrior held her small, delicate hand in his own, his thumb caressing her skin lovingly. Elladan continued. "Let me assume captaincy. Be with your wife."
None of them knew what tomorrow brings; whether Mila survive this or not, for while her condition seemed to improve yesterday, today proved to be otherwise, and that the poison still festered in her body. Glorfindel swallowed his terror upon seeing the eyes of Elladan; of the unspoken truth written in those steely grey eyes.
There is still hope left. She may live. But it doesn't negate the possibility that you could also lose her today. Or tomorrow. Next week- or on any given dark moments that may sneak up on us. What if she's gone, and you're not there with her?
The bitter realization hit him hard like a boulder; its weight crushing him that he felt as if he was on the brink of utter destruction. One more push, one more nudge, and he would be shattered to pieces. He didn't know how or even have the strength to bear such sorrowful possibility. Mila was his world now, and the elf didn't know how he could live without her.
Elladan took his silence and lack of argument as an approval. The oldest son of Elrond placed a hand on Glorfindel's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze before leaving the premises to perform the captain duty in his stead.
The golden warrior remained glued to her side, unmoving, faithfully keeping vigil for her. Living for her, breathing for her, despite being suffocated with horror of what might happen next, whether she would ever wake up again, or whether he would see her smile and bloom like she always did.
My sweet, sweet Mila. My little wildflower, he called to her lovingly down their bond, sending his affection and comfort towards her.
"You gave us a scare for a moment there, melon nin."
As Mila felt Glorfindel's comforting caress down her arm, she offered an apologetic smile at Elladan. "I feel better today," she said earnestly, mostly to Glorfindel, glancing at his loving blue eyes as she spoke.
Glorfindel kissed the side of her temple in response. Despite the concern that was still lurking behind the captivating blue in his eyes, the balrog slayer smiled in content at hearing her reassuring words.
Pleased that Mila managed to even stay awake after her meal today, Glorfindel smiled fondly at her. He turned his eyes at Elladan while still keeping his arms around her delicate form, minding her back. His heart fluttered when he felt her resting her head on his collarbone. The simple, innocent gesture still managed to warm his heart. "What news of the eastern border?" he inquired, having been absent from his duties for two days in a row.
"There are orcs that tried to get in, but none survived my blade," grinned the oldest twin, his expression smug in effort to keep the atmosphere light for Mila's sake, "I am mighty."
Elrohir had a rather unhappy look on his face as he stood on the side, his arms crossed as he watched his twin brother, still in his full armor. "Really?"
Elladan scoffed. "Of course. Are you doubting me, brother?"
He strode next to Elladan until they were standing shoulder to shoulder. Elrohir intentionally bumped his twin's right back with his palm, as if congratulating him, "My mighty," he clapped his back firmly, "...invincible, brother," dragged Elrohir mockingly. The gesture shocked Elladan with jolts of pain. The oldest twin closed his eyes, grimacing with pain. "What? Not so mighty now with that injury, are we?" mocked Elrohir.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Elladan gave him an evil eye.
"When are you planning to tell me about your back? I'm your brother," reprimanded Elrohir, upset.
"It's just a scratch, mother!" mocked Elladan back, annoyed that Elrohir still managed to sense his ailment despite his effort to conceal it from their twin bond.
Mila's smile dropped when she realized what was implied. Her expression stunned at hearing the familiar line. It's just a scratch. That was exactly what Glorfindel said when he had that god awful gash on his back.
"Have your brother take a look at it, Dan," said Glorfindel, his trapping blue eyes wary, suspicious when he looked at Elladan.
"I am fine. You should see the other guy," muttered Elladan with a wink, though at this point no one was entertained anymore.
"Take off your armor," demanded Elrohir.
"No," insisted Elladan, crossing his arms.
"Take it off now!"
"No. And remove that patronizing tone out of your speech. I am older than you."
Elrohir rolled his eyes in frustration. "By three minutes and fifteen seconds, and you never let me forget that!" he hissed. "Get. It. Off."
Elrohir was fuming. "Orc's blades are filthy. Even if it is just a scratch like you said, it must be cleaned right away to prevent infection, you stubborn idiot!!"
The twins' argument became a background noise to Mila. As if being awakened from a long slumber, reality slowly hit her. Things had escalated during her ailment. The star... Rivendell needed it now more than ever. She should've known. She wasn't the sole inhabitant of the infirmary. Some elves come and go, commotions sometimes being heard from outside at another section of the infirmary. Battle wounds.
Glorfindel sensed her troubled mind down their marriage bond. He caressed her cheek lovingly, turning her attention to him. Looking up at those jeweled blue eyes, Mila felt his comfort and affection for her through the bond they shared. One thing at a time, she heard him inwardly as he smiled in sympathy at her.
Elrohir seemed to have won the argument. He excused himself, dragging his older brother to another room, undoubtedly to treat his injury-whatever it was that the elf managed to hide-and gave his brother an earful lecture while he's at it.
Glorfindel saw the downcast and tired look that Mila had. He tipped her chin up and pressed his lips on hers in a gentle, loving kiss. "You're tired. I think you should rest."
Mila shook her head. "I don't want to be here any longer," she said quietly. There was some kind of fear lurking behind her mind now upon knowing that Elladan was hurt. It was the fact that what happened to Rivendell could be worse, would get worse if it is allowed to continue any longer. And when it does, the infirmary will once again being at its full capacity, with death reeking the air-like the last time.
There was also another thing that hung behind her mind. Consciousness of time. Mila had always thought that she had a lot of time. She was young. Strong. But what happened to her made her realize that while Glorfindel was her whole life story, she, a mortal, was nothing but a chapter in his. Who knew what tomorrow brings? If her time suddenly runs out faster than she expected?
Of this fear, Mila concealed it deep within her heart and mind, not wanting Glorfindel to sense it through their bond. Though unspoken, Mila knew that Glorfindel was aware of this. She knew he had chosen to live in the now, savoring what little time he had with her, future be damned.
His own future be damned-had always been, ever since the elf decided to love her.
The epiphany was devastating to Mila. Suddenly she felt small; helpless by the revelation. She could feel it in the way her heart beat slowed; how it dried strength from her bones.
With a look that disarmed the elf warrior, Mila convinced Glorfindel. "I miss our bed. Please," Mila added with hopeful, wistful eyes. "I want to sleep next to you tonight."
Glorfindel was quiet for a moment, weighing her unspoken request. "I do miss you being next to me," sighed Glorfindel with slight longing in his eyes. "But I'll have to consult with Lord Elrond before moving you to our room. While it is more comfortable there, you will be further away from healers who can help in case you need urgent medical assistant."
"Can we go to our place now? I can walk. I feel strong enough."
Glorfindel failed to see the urgency hidden behind her soft spoken words. It merely confused him. "I will talk to Lord Elrond once you are resting," he diplomatically replied, gently placed his hand on her waist, "Let me help you lay down."
Mila shook her head again, her lids seemed heavier by the minute. Her fatigue returned, yet she fought it. "I don't want to be here any longer. I'm bored," she insisted, "You are Rivendell's second in command. I'm sure you can pull some strings."
Glorfindel raised a neat eyebrow attractively. "Pull some string, huh?" teased him.
Mila snickered. "What's the use of having a captain as a husband if he can't?" teased Mila back.
Glorfindel gave her a smirk, leaning down to her face. "You are devious," he said in a low, husky voice, before pulling her face for a slow kiss laced with passion.
Mila hummed softly as she felt his lips moved against hers. She captured his lower lip between hers, sucking lightly. He smiled to her lips, and returned the gesture with a flick of his tongue inside her mouth.
Mila whined inwardly-one that Glorfindel didn't miss.
I would have jumped your bone if not for this stupid back.
Glorfindel broke the kiss to stifle his laugh of amusement.
Such a dirty mouth, he told her playfully, his mirth reverberated down their bond.
Yet you always find ways to have a use of it, she retorted suggestively.
Glorfindel smiled with both awe and reverence in his eyes. I didn't know I married a very, bad girl. You must have deceived me during our courting period.
It's too late to back down now, she replied smugly.
Another kiss, and the two remained in each other's arms for a moment more, before Glorfindel crouched in front of his wife with his back to her. Mila wrapped her arms around his neck as Glorfindel grasped both her thighs to his side carefully, securing her to him as he got up with her clinging to his back.
Glorfindel woefully noted her weight loss and how even more fragile she felt against him.
Mila rested her chin on his shoulder as the elf strolled towards their room. The two talked with quiet voices during their walk, with Glorfindel constantly checking on her if her back was alright with this way of transport.
"We're here, meleth," he nudged her gently, waking her from her micro sleep on his shoulder. Glorfindel lowered her carefully on the bed and helped her to lie down.
There was a sense of peace in the middle of the storm when he felt her lying in his arms on their bed again. He murmured sweet nothings to her as she looked up to him, her eyes grew heavier with time as she contentedly drifted to sleep.
Despite feeling relieved to find herself back in the comfort of their room, Mila still did have bad days among her good ones. Elrohir would come to their room regularly to monitor her. Even with the fact that Glorfindel rarely leaving her side, the younger twin had made sure that there is always someone else being nearby, just in case.
Today was not Mila's finest day. Though alert and responsive, she woke up with ache all over her body. Initially, she did try to soften the fact from Glorfindel. But upon seeing her cold sweat and the fatigue in her form, the elf warrior quickly fetch for Elrohir. As Elrohir helped her drink the athelas potion, he muttered to Glorfindel with a neutral expression, hiding his alarm for both Glorfindel and Mila's sake.
"I think a warm bath will help relaxing your muscles," said Elrohir kindly, removing the empty athelas vial from her. "Can you stay awake for a bath? It will make you feel better." Mila nodded. "Good. I will fetch Ilya to help."
"That won't be necessary," Glorfindel cut, having sensed Mila's discomfort at the idea that someone else was bathing her. "I can do it."
She shot him a grateful smile.
Elrohir nodded and gestured for Glorfindel to follow him and briefed him about things that can help with her ailment. Their voices were reduced to nothing as the two elf warrior walked further away from them. Mila took a shaky, deep breath, feeling dejected that she constantly worried them; especially Glorfindel.
A gentle hand brushed her hair back, and a sweet, small kiss on her temple woke her from her microsleep. "Are you still up for that bath, little one?" asked Glorfindel with his lover voice.
Mila nodded. She winced slightly as she got off the bed. Glorfindel held her waist and her hand, steadying her as he patiently walked her at her own pace to the direction of their bathroom. He seated her by the edge of the bath.
"Up," he ordered gently. Mila sent him a suggestive smile, on that was mirrored on his handsome face. She lifted her heavy arms as Glorfindel carefully slid the sleeping gown up past her her head and arms.
Self consciousness grew inside Mila as he undressed her, knowing that she didn't look her best when she was being sick. In fact, she felt rather icky herself. The mortal woman didn't have long to delve into her insecurity. Not when the destructively handsome elf knelt on one knee before her, his hands sliding her panties down slowly, as if reverently when he gazed deep into her eyes. He surprised her with a quick, passion laced kiss as soon as her panties were off of her.
"Get in," he said lowly to her lips, "I got you."
Just like the way she often behaved in his bed, Mila obeyed him meekly, following his lead. The moment she was half submerged into the bath, she let out a soft sigh, feeling the warmth of the water instantly relaxed her muscles.
Glorfindel smiled charmingly at her. "Good?"
"Very good," she replied with a weak, yet coy smile.
Glorfindel gave her an attractive lopsided smile as he took out several vials containing bathing oils, opening the caps and smelling each one. "What are you feeling like today? Rose? Lilies?... Lavender... Sandalwood?"
The warm woody scent of aromatic bath oil entered Mila's nose. She took a deep breath, inhaling it. "Sandalwood?"
"And Lavender," Glorfindel said as he poured the second vial.
"This is so so good," Mila sighed, now detecting the ever gentle lavender in her nostrils. She watched with heavy eyes as he poured some soap into a loofah.
"Now the fun part," Glorfindel teased, giving her an alluring smirk that would've break many girls' heart.
"You'll get wet. I can do it myself-"
Glorfindel shook his head, as he pulled back the sleeves of his black tunic. "You'll do no such thing. What you do, my little wildflower, is relax," he said in a low lover voice that makes her stomach fluttered.
Mila let her head fall back to the edge of the bathtub as she felt the loofah brushing gently across her neck. "You spoil me," she said, closing her eyes.
"I rather enjoy spoiling you," he said as he ran the loofah down her shoulder. Suddenly his touch ceased. "Ilya is at the door with the athelas salve. I will be back soon, my love."
Mila gave a nod, smiling, before he exited the bathroom. She closed her eyes again, reveling on the way the warmth of the water soothed her aching muscles. Almost immediately, the mortal woman drifted to slumber-and unpeaceful one, for she dreamed of Saruman pinning her down to the floor by her neck, choking her.
A pair of strong hands grasped her from under her arms. Mila resurfaced, and coughed, spluttering water from her mouth and nose. Her eyes blurred with tears. When her eyes cleared, revealing Glorfindel's horrified look, then she realized that sometime along the way, she had fallen asleep and slid down under the water in the bathtub.
Seeing his fear stricken face, Mila apologized profusely between her chokes, her voice raspy. "I'm s-sorry. I fell a-asleep," she croaked.
Glorfindel's lips were tight with distress; square jaw tightened in anger-one that he directed at himself. "I shouldn't have taken my eyes off of you. I am sorry."
Mila's mouth went open in confusion when he got to his feet, unceremoniously took off his boots and taking the collar of his tunic, bringing it over his head. He tossed the slightly wet tunic away, revealing his flawless, sculpted chest and strong abs to her. She yelped when he got into the tub still with his pants on, causing the water to spill down the floor as he sat down and situated himself next to her.
The balrog slayer put his right arm behind her back, easily straightening her upper body. His arm remained there, making sure she won't accidentally submerged herself underwater again. Glorfindel then peppered the side of her head with kisses, as if apologizing to her.
"Don't do that."
"Blaming yourself for everything," Mila said, noting the guilt still lurking in his deep blue eyes. Glorfindel said nothing, walling himself behind the smile he put on his face for her.
"You're too good for me, my sweet wife," he muttered, taking the loofah and began running it across her chest and her stomach. "Relax. You can close your eyes. I got you now, I promise," he said with remorse in his tone.
Too tired to actually argue with him, Mila only spoke through their bond and leaned her head on his arm around her shoulders and neck.
You're being too hard on yourself. I'm okay.
I love you, he replied inwardly, making her smile.
As I you.
She felt his soft lips on hers as response. Feeling content, Mila kept her eyes closed as she relished his comforting touch on her skin. That with the feeling of his hard body against her, with nothing separating them, was quick to pull her back into the sleeping spell she was previously under.
Glorfindel was working on her thigh when she opened her eyes again.
"I've been slacking."
The golden haired elf noticed her slur from her voice and her blank eyes. He stopped his work on her thigh for a moment, putting down the loofah. He brought his hands on her head, taking the time to smooth her beautiful dark hair as he listened to her, absently caressing her head as he observed her.
"Varda came to me." Glorfindel paused his movement on her hair, his stomach churned with distress upon hearing the name of the vala. "She showed me the way to my last task."
Glorfindel's heart was gripped by a sudden feeling of doom. It consumed him from inside, making him feel sick with what her slurs meant. He wanted so much to believe that with her history, the mortal woman had a special connection to the vala; yet his heart betrayed him, knowing that death was the only way that can allow such a meeting.
Glorfindel pulled her close to his chest, squeezing her slightly as if fearing that she would be taken away from him any second. "When?" he asked curtly, the question left his mouth bitterly.
"A few days ago."
A tear escaped his eyes. The blue jewels rimmed with red, along with his lips as he hid his despair and anguish from her. So close she was to the doors of death, that she was able to look eye to eye with the vala. Glorfindel gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw, willing himself not to break.
"I have to go out there and get the star," she mumbled, her eyes closed as she rested her head on the nape of his neck.
His heart bled. Something inside Glorfindel's head screamed in objection; ringing in his ears.
"No," he voiced his inner cry in his impassive tone, surprising even himself that he managed to hold himself in check with the way his heart clawing at his chest. "You get better first."
Mila hummed sleepily. "What about Rivendell?"
"I don't care," he seethed quietly.
There were no more replies from her afterward as the girl had fallen into another sleeping spell. Only then Glorfindel let the mask of his indifference fell, his expression crunched in pain as he closed his eyes with his free left hand. His chest shook as he cried quietly; shame and guilt for failing to protect her ate away at him.
He embraced the unconscious Mila to his chest tightly as he seethed loathfully.
"They can take Rivendell. They can burn the rest of the world," he said through his gritted teeth, "But they are not taking you away from me," he vowed, burying his face on her neck, "I won't allow it."