Chapter 1 - Good life, my ass!!!

“Your name is Mila.”

Mila's heart skipped a beat.

Mila.

The mortal woman began to remember who she was.

She was but an invisible girl back in the world of steel and light. She was insignificant. The vala before her smiled softly as the girl remembered that she chose her to save the world she thought only existed in fiction.

Mila was sent to Middle Earth and joined the fellowship to destroy the one ring. She met Legolas and fell in love. While Mila thought that the story would go as what was written in the book, she found that she was wrong.

Lady Galadriel gave up her life just to give her a chance; a chance to save Middle Earth. As cruel as it was, Mila eventually chose to leave Legolas and sacrificed her life for the greater good. From the sky, Mila watched as Legolas held her lifeless body in his arms. She witnessed as he withered away and faded because of his love for her, a mere mortal that he had come to love.

So he was being serious when he said that elves have weak hearts, thought Mila.

And now she stood before Varda, a goddess made of stars and light, as beautiful as the night, shimmering like thousands upon thousands of diamonds in the sky.

Mila wondered how she could gaze upon her and not die.

“Your sacrifice have saved Arda. Your life is precious to my eyes.”

Mila realized she did die.

“I am forever indebted to you, little one. In return, I shall grant you one wish. Ask, and you shall receive.”

“Can I go back to my world?” Mila asked.

The vala smiled so beautifully and nodded. “Is that what you desire?”

What I truly desire? Thought Mila inwardly.

She looked down to the sphere below that was Middle Earth.

Despite the war won, she saw there was no good came out of it. So much blood. So much misery and suffering.

Glorfindel, your dear friend, was trapped for eternity in a limbo, unable to die but not living either. You would never hear his jests or see his bright smile ever again. To give up his soul for her–there was no greater sacrifice a friend could ever done.

Lord Celeborn had faded now because of the Lady of Light’s death. Legolas was left wandering Arda; an empty vessel waiting for death to claim him completely; all because of his love for her.

He was doing so well before he met her. She caused this. Mila realized then, that she couldn’t let him fade just because of her.

“Varda, I can’t go home and leave him like that,” the girl murmured quietly.

“So you made up your decision,” nodded the vala, “I can return you to the beginning; to the time when Sauron’s name was never existed; where Arda is never plagued by war. Nor the evil influence of the ring.”

Mila smiled. “I’d like that.”

“But it would mean changing the fate of everyone,” Varda warned, “Your path may not cross the one which you love; the elf prince may never going to love you again.”

You looked down to Legolas, that hooded figure leaning his lean frame against the dying mellorn tree.

“My heart is stronger than his,” you smiled sadly, “Anything to keep him alive. Look at him. What a shame. He was glorious before he met me,” Mila said with regret.

“The elf prince had never truly lived before he met you. Loving you was a gift,” Varda replied kindly.

“It is a gift I no longer want him to receive,” Mila said with determination. “I will make sure he and my friends never suffer like that again.”

Varda smiled benevolently. “For your selfless act once again, I grant you my star,” she said as she lifted up her starry hands up to the eternal night sky and plucked a star between her fingers. The goddess took Mila's hand and placed the burning light in her palm. “May it guide you and light your path. I shall live through you. You shall have a good life ahead of you.”

She placed a kiss on top of Mila's forehead. “Goodbye, Mila.”

***

Glorfindel found himself riding hard towards the sunrise when he suddenly, as if awaken from a slumber, halted his trusted steed. Noticing the sudden pause, his comrades who followed him turned their horses back to where their captain had stopped and sat still on his horse.

“Captain?” one of the dark haired elf questioned him. "My lord?"

When Glorfindel's eyes found him, his azure blue eyes widened, and an inaudible gasp left his lips.

“Rubin!” he exclaimed. Rubin watched as his captain stared at him with shock and almost with tremble on his expression.

“Are you well, my lord?”

“I-I…I can’t believe…”

The balrog slayer never stuttered. Rubin looked at his captain with confused and wary eyes.

Another person beside him voiced their thoughts. “Do you sense anything wrong, Glorfindel?”

Glorfindel turned his head, and again, the face he never expected to see again came to his view.

Elladan.

No. No. Elladan died in battle. This must be…

“Ro?” Glorfindel asked with doubt in his melodious voice.

Elladan raised a brow. “I can’t believe you still can’t differentiate between me and my brother,” he complained, looking somewhat offended. “Don’t you remember, you’re on my side and my little brother is on the other side, gaining in on us and is going to win this game if we keep on standing here doing nothing.”

Glorfindel remembered everything.

The war. The fellowship. The destruction that came swiftly across Arda. Yet the sun rises, golden and bright, and the faces of his dead comrades were there with him, looking at him with either confusion, concern, or wariness. All the while, new memories of this reality began to fill his mind, as if he was just been violently awaken from a nightmare.

Glorfindel made a move to touch Elladan’s shoulder. The shoulder that once was cold and stone like, now warm, and Elladan’s eyes fleeted in puzzlement between Glorfindel’s hand on his shoulder and his face.

Then suddenly, a playful smile appeared on the dark haired elf's face.

“Wow. Ro really did it well this time. An act of confusion,” he smirked, “Nice try, Glorfindel. I do not know what he did to convince you to try but I admire his effort–“

Glorfindel should have been stuck in that limbo forever; not living nor dying either for eternity. In that complete darkness, to stay in a place where he was forced to live out his remorse and regrets over and over again.

But here–

“Mila…” Glorfindel whispered under his breath though the elves around him could hear him. They watched as the balrog slayer’s expression turned dark then shocked at the same time. “Mila! Where is she?!”

“She’s probably baking honey cake for the winner of the game today,” Elladan clapped Glorfindel’s back firmly, before a look of determination flashed in the Lord of Rivendell’s eldest son, “…the honey cake that we will share evenly if you drop this act Elrohir made you do to confuse me, and instead help me win this game. I am determined to eat that honey cake today.”

The game. This was the day before the council.

But no. No council was needed, because in this reality, the One Ring never existed, nor the name of Sauron ever mentioned by any breathing, living being in Arda.

Not saying any more, Glorfindel turned his horse and began riding fast towards Imladris, leaving his comrades confused and torn between continuing the game or chasing after their captain who didn’t seem like himself all of a sudden.

***

Mila groaned as soon as she realized she was glazing her famous honey cake with more honey.

She was in the middle of her thoughts of trying to give Elladan or Elrohir–whichever win the game today–diabetes with her honey cake when she realized that she was reborn as nothing but a servant in Imladris.

Again.

Seriously, Varda? Good life my ass.

Now instead, she found herself at the beginning, where she was the twins plaything again.

“Ah my favorite mortal servant.”

“Excuse me, she is my favorite mortal servant first.”

“You look as lovely as the sun rises. Come here and join us, our little human.”

“My sweet, Mila. What are you doing just standing there? Do you finally acknowledge our destructive beauty? Look, there’s two of us! Hahaha!”

Mila facepalmed herself at the memory, as if the twin lords of Rivendell was nothing but annoyance. Though, a slight smile made its way towards her face. Deep down in her heart–they were her family.

And Elladan! He…

Mila looked around the kitchen. The decoration on the wall.

Rivendell was fallen and this room shouldn’t have existed anymore. That meant…

She had to make sure. Make sure they really were all alive. Make sure that this other memory that she now have in this reality was not just her being crazy.

Her heart began to pound in her chest as she hastily made her way out of the kitchen.

The city of Rivendell was teeming with life.

Unlike that one time.

“Mila!”

Her heart stopped at the sound.

Elrond’s daughter came into her view, beaming. Happy.

Arwen leaned down due to Mila’s short stature and whispered to her in conspiracy, “How’s the honey cake coming along? Save some for me and King Elessar, will you?”

Mila stood frozen in shock.

This was not the face of an elleth who had been defiled both body and soul by mindless orcs. This was not the face of an elleth who had watched her love being tortured and killed by Saruman.

“K-king… what?”

“Aragorn,” Arwen said with a blush on her cheeks, rolling her eyes. “My friend, don’t tell me you forget he's coming today. You know if you do I’m sure you can smuggle some cake for me? Please??”

Arwen was still giggling when she realized that the mortal girl who had become her friend stood still, staring at her with a slightly pale face. The elleth’s giggle gradually ceased as her expression began to turn to concern.

“Are you well, Mila? You seem not your usual cheerful self today.”

Mila had to stop herself from crying right there and then. She realized that history had been rewritten; and that no one remembered about what happened but her.

“Arwen…”

The beautiful dark haired elleth placed her elegant hand on Mila’s forehead. “Are you feeling sick? Please, you are a guest in my home. You don’t need to work as hard as you do. You don’t even need to do this job at all. Please, sit down with me for a while.”

Mila shook herself inwardly and stopped Arwen in her track. Steeling herself, Mila smiled for Arwen’s sake and quickly fall into her role.

Her role in this time and reality.

“I’m okay. Serving is an honor, and my way to give back to Lord Elrond. I don’t want to just sit around pretty as guest in Rivendell,” Mila explained, “I’m just… I just remembered that I left the honey cake uncovered. Ants will eat them if I let them be,” she added with a lie.

Arwen still saw something was off about her friend this morning. “Are you sure–“

“Don’t worry, Arwen! I saved a couple of honey cake for you and your secret boyfriend,” Mila winked, suddenly returned to her cheerful self. Arwen couldn’t help but blush at the thought of Aragorn again, letting out a girlish giggle at that.

Mila’s heart melted at the sight of her friend that was once lost to her.

“Arwen. Can I ask you something?”

Arwen beamed. “Of course.”

“Are you happy?” Mila questioned, her expression rather wistful.

Arwen’s smile seemed to get brighter and the blush on her cheek deepened. “I am beyond happy. Aragorn is finally coming to ask for my hand from my adar. I can’t be happier,” she replied bashfully, before adding, “Are you sure you’re alright, mellon nin?”

Mila, whose eyes began to glassed over with a mix of disbelief, happiness and misery of the memory that now she only have, smiled brighter for the sake of the princess. “Absolutely.”

Arwen studied Mila’s face, looking somewhat worried still when Mila began pushing her away, telling her to prepare for Aragorn’s coming.

Aragorn turned out to be alive and was now king of Gondor.

After that morning, Mila began to meet more elves who were supposed to be dead, almost everywhere she went.

Despite being overjoyed, she was also shook to the core.

When she saw Elladan and Elrohir coming back from the game and fought over the last piece of honey cake, she had to stop herself from running to them and hugging them.

To her surprise, her banter with the twins went on just as before all the pain of war that had passed.

Joyful. Funny. Childish.

She got her friends back.

From a distance, Glorfindel watched the mortal girl scolding the twins just as if the war never happened. As if they never bleed or cry together.

She forgot. She didn’t remember the warmth of friendship that they shared. That closeness–she didn’t have it with him anymore.

Glorfindel’s heart hurt more than he expected. That he was the only one who remembered. That to her now, at this time, he was but an acquaintance that meant nothing to her.

Glorfindel didn’t understand how he could be the only one who remembered about the war. But what he knew for sure, was that he was happy enough that she was well and alive. That his little friend had a hand in saving the world without even knowing it.

Seeing her smile, happy, Glorfindel couldn’t help but smile wistfully himself.

Be happy, Mila, he said in his heart, then turned away from the dining hall, choosing to be silent about the knowledge of the past that the world had seem forgotten.

***