((Setting: Rivendell at nighttime. AU from the Imladris Plot, with Gildor Inglorion.))
Little neon butterflies twinkled at every turn, and Maglor was uncertain how he had gotten here. Just an hour ago his brother Curufin had given him some tea with herbs meant to calm him, but instead it seemed to have transferred him to this strange new and magnificent world.
Frightened he was at first, but how could he? He was surely being silly to feel this way! Mermaids with jellyfish tails swam past him, and the neon butterflies lit paths through the purple mist. He followed the butterflies, humming merrily to himself. Through the purple fog he could see that the grass was swaying around his feet, singing tiny happy songs. And soon all fear left Maglor, and he was chuckling to himself, forgetting the entire world.
Gildor was finally heading home. He gently urged his horse to go a little faster, knowing that both wanted a good night’s sleep. And a good, warm bath. He followed through the familiar vegetation that growed around Imladris’ surroundings, letting his mind rest for the first time in what felt like ages, when he heard weird noises.
Rather, rather weird noises. Was someone singing? He was suddenly fully aware again. Can’t be much of a problem to delay my rest, he thought as he followed the sounds. Weird singing. He felt like his horse agreed with him.
Just as he took a turn to his left, he found someone. A dark-haired elf loomed among the trees, dancing languidly, humming happy tunes to himself and seeming completely unaware of his surroundings. This fellow is not alright, Gildor thought to himself as he got off his horse to touch the elf’s shoulder.
“Are you alright, friend?”
A touch to his shoulder felt like a tiny starbust of light and colors, which drew Maglor’s attention away from his song. He spun around and tried to focus on the being of light before him. He could scarcely make his face, but there was such a beautiful glow to his aura that he did not flinch.
The other being might have asked a question, but Maglor did not hear it, for from his mouth sprout little bubbles that flew across his face and tickled his nose and cheeks.
Maglor gave a hearty laugh and kept singing, encircling the other being with a sort of dance.
This is definitely not good, Gildor thought, frowning. “Do you need any help?” He asked to the dancing elf in front of him. I should bring him with me, this is no place for someone in such state, even if it’s a safe place. He needs a bed.
He started gently pulling him towards his horse, saying it was going to be alright, that he was a friend, just in case the elf turned violent. He didn’t know what he would do if this happened. He managed to place him on his horse, much to the poor, tired animal’s displease. “You’ll soon get some rest, my friend, I’m sorry”, he said to him, whishing he could say the same to himself.
He set his course to Imladris again, holding the elf in front of him as he sang unintelligible words and waved his arms around. Fool, you never get to rest. Didn’t you learn that already?
Maglor knew not how he ended up upon the winged unicorn (for that indeed was how it looked to him, complete with shimmering wings and flowers entwined in its long blonde hair), but it pleased him all the same. He sang as he swayed on top of the animal, and he could feel the brilliant light close to him, warm and comforting. The touch made him sleepy, and he leaned forward on top of the winged unicorn’s head.
He still sang, but his voice was drifting away from him, from the vibrant reds, oranges, and golds to wispy hues of violets and blue. He tried to bring the colors back to him, but the darkness and sweet-smelling promise of sleep was more tempting, and with a few more notes Maglor fell asleep.
After a few moments, the humming elf drifted into sleep. Gildor fervently thanked Elbereth for making his journey easier, for trying to hold him on top of the horse as he swayed was not an easy task. I wonder who is he, and why is he in such a state, he thought as he saw the warm lights of Elrond’s House in the valley below him. He wouldn’t go for his advice now, he decided. His eyes were closing and he was so, so tired. He’d take care of the elf tonight, and in the morning, yes, after he rested, he’d go.
Once he was in the stables, he carefully slipped the elf to his arms and headed to his room, hoping no one would come across. He didn’t want to explain anything, he wanted to rest. He must be under the effect of some substance, he thought as he opened his chambers’ door and carried the smiling elf to his bed, where he placed him and carefully removed his shoes. “Now, rest, friend, for you’re safe”, he murmured as he sat on a rather uncomfortable chair. And please let me at least have some sleep.
Though Maglor slept, his mind’s eye could see all sorts of visions and sounds and even some strange yet wonderful smells, but everything was a confusing haze. Maglor tried to make sense of it, but the colorful clouds kept drifting. He smiled instead, letting the pretty colors just calm him throughout his sleep until he became conscious of them no longer.
When he finally opened his eyes, the rays form the sun was directly in his face, and he gave a little annoyed grunt. Did his brother Curufin do that to annoy him? He was having a small headache, and he was certain he could see some sort of blinking white squares before his eyes, fluttering like tiny butterflies. But these afterimages faded soon enough as Maglor slowly became aware of his surroundings. This wasn’t his room at all, and he wondered again if this was some dirty trick of Curufin’s. But his brother wouldn’t dare causing too much trouble under Lord Elrond, Maglor’s son, so Maglor shifted his head around to study this room.
His eyes fell on a sleeping elf on the chair, and he wasn’t certain how he should react to this bit of discovery. He had never seen him before.
“Am I still in Rivendell?” he wondered to himself as he slipped out of bed. He felt a bit woozy, but he steadied himself. The strange elf, tall and rather handsome, was sleeping on a stiff chair, and his neck was craned at an uncomfortable angle. Maglor lifted the pillow from the bed and approached the elf, then with as much care as he could do (for he had so many times before for his brothers), he slipped the pillow under the elf’s head, correcting the position somewhat.
“You’re welcome,” Maglor mouthed teasingly to the sleeping elf, and he wondered if he should leave the room now.
Gildor woke up to find that his head was comfortably rested on a pillow, although he was still in the chair. Surveying his room with his gaze, he found his bed made, and the elf looking out his window. As he motioned to get up, he could see his face as he turned with a smile to say “Mae govannen, friend”.
“Mae govannen”, Gildor replied, thinking about how peculiar those words sounded in the situation they were in now.