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06/24/18 12:35 am
I know. But I'll have to wait till Monday to talk to my internet company. :/
Spiced Wine
06/23/18 09:37 pm
I remember it doing that years ago
06/23/18 04:25 pm
I've tried both Google and Firefox since yesterday but I still can't get on. The connection keeps timing out. :/
Spiced Wine
06/23/18 01:21 pm
I have not tried, I’m afraid, Alquien
06/22/18 11:30 pm
Is it just me or is anyone else having trouble with live journal?
Spiced Wine
06/22/18 10:15 am
Happy Friday, everyone :)
06/20/18 07:49 pm
Have a great time Narya!!
Spiced Wine
06/20/18 07:21 pm
Have a great time, Narya; some lovely weather coming next week, I see!
06/20/18 06:15 pm
I look forwards to catching up with you and your stories when I come back <3
06/20/18 06:14 pm
Hey guys! Just to let you know I'm going camping for ten days; if you don't see me online, don't think I've abandoned you all, I just won't have internet ;)
Shout Archive

In Another Life. by Gabriel

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Chapter notes:
A BIG thank you to Nelyafinwefeanorion for her lovely beta work.

This is a gift for Narya as a thank you for all the wonderful gift fics she has written for me.

This story was inspired by Narya's 'Nocturne' as I thought that Narya writes Maglor as if she has known him personally.

Alex awoke with a start, gasping, sweat beading her forehead. She sat up breathing hard, the same reoccurring nightmare scouring her mind. Her eyes darted about the room as if what she had seen in her dream had somehow followed her into the real world.

She squeezed her eyes shut in the hope of dispelling the terrifying images of creatures scarred and twisted beyond recourse leering at her and the unnatural squawking and screeches that rendered her body chill with fear.

But in each of her visions she had seen a figure of a tall man, his hair black as night and eyes like burning blue silver. She had no idea who this man was, or what any of this meant.

She reached for the glass of water she always kept at her bedside for such emergencies and lifted it with trembling hands to her lips, gulping down its contents and slamming the glass back down on the side table. She swallowed the last of the water with a heaving gasp as if it was some divine elixir, and ran a trembling hand through her damp hair as she attempted to collect herself.

Suddenly her CD alarm-clock flared into life making her jump. Even the angelic tones of a harp filling the room, soft and serene, did nothing to slow down her rapidly racing heart. 'Damn it,' she said as she slammed the button to shut it off.

Once she got to the kitchen Alex switched on the kettle and popped a teabag into her mug. She couldn't help drumming her fingers impatiently on the bench as she waited for it to steep. Glancing up at the wall clock she realised she was going to be late for work if the damn kettle didn’t hurry up. Her eyes flitted back to the wisps of steam rising from the spout. Finally, she thought.

Alex was suddenly startled by the strange yet not unwelcome sensation of a warm pair of hands cupping her slender shoulders and then trailing leisurely down her arms to cover her own. She shivered at the touch and lifted her face to stare at her reflection in the window, eyes wide and breath coming in short gasps. The distinct presence of a hard-muscled body at her back, warm breath on her neck where lips pressed a single kiss of fire; she could feel prickled goose bumps down her arms but she was frozen in place, not daring to move, not wanting to move, “My sun, my stars, my life, my love,” a voice rich in timbre breathed against her ear.

The kettle’s shrill whistle jerked her back to reality and she spun, her eyes darting about the room hoping to catch some intruder retreating, but kitchen and living area beyond were empty save for Silmaril, her fluffy white cat, curled up on the window seat.

Alex exhaled unsteadily, running her fingers through her already sleep-tousled blonde hair, trying to calm herself and steady her heartbeat. Her blue eyes lit upon the coffee table with the partial sketch of the man she had seen in her dreams.

She walked to the sofa and slowly sat down staring at it, her gaze wandering over the sculpted lines of his face, his mouth, his eyes; a stranger to her yet there was something so familiar about this face, something she couldn’t quite identify.

Her fingers reached out to trace a path over the strong jaw and lingered on the fullness of his lips. “Who are you?” she whispered into the room. Her eyes caught sight of the clock again. She was definitely going to be late this time. "Damn," she muttered, as she propelled herself off the sofa and raced to the bathroom.


“Flat white, please,” Alex told the Barista at the coffee cart, her breath misting in the frigid air. The cart was set up on the far side of the square, corporate offices towering above it on all sides.

"That will be three pounds, please," the barista interrupted her thoughts. Alex rummaged in her bag for the money then handed the woman the three notes as she took the coffee from her hands.

As she thanked her, Alex turned and bumped straight into a man standing directly behind her, gracelessly spilling coffee all over his shirt. She stood for a moment in shock; holding her now half empty cup in one hand and her purse in the other as she stared at the very nicely sculpted chest beneath the stranger's sodden, stained and now very transparent white shirt.

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry!” Alex reached back for some napkins and vainly attempted to dab at the man’s chest.

"It’s fine, really!” a deep resonant voice replied, as her gaze was drawn upwards to a face from which she couldn’t look away.

Wisps of leonine black hair drifted across his features with the breeze, the wealth of which was secured in a neat bun at the back of his head. But it was his eyes which completely captivated her; they were silver with a hint of blue in their depths, so pale in colour they almost shone with their own inner light.

It was him, the man in her dreams. Her heart began to thud against her chest. This was too much of a coincidence.

Their eyes met and something passed between them, something, unspoken. All the noise in the surrounding square suddenly dimmed as if they were in their own private world. Alex blinked as she realised she was staring, swiftly lowering her gaze from those riveting eyes.

“Really, it’s no trouble, I have another shirt in my office, for just such an emergency,” he continued with a smile.

“Well…if you’re sure,” Alex smiled apologetically; she could feel the weight of his gaze upon her face.

“Look, I would really like to make it up to you,” Alex said, the regret apparent in her voice.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking at her appraisingly before answering. “If you wish," he finally replied, “Meet me for lunch at 1:15, underneath that birch over there." He motioned toward an immense tree which looked like the lonely remnant of a once sprawling forest. Beneath its ancient and gnarled branches was a sweeping lawn, lush and as green as emerald with a very solitary picnic table.

Alex’s mind raced. She had been thinking more along the lines of a replacement cup of coffee, but this was good. Better than good, if she was being honest with herself. "Okay. Lunch it is," she replied.

The sun chose that moment to peek out from behind a cloud, bathing the two of them in gold. "I’m Maglor, by the way, but you can call me Mags, if you like--everyone else does,” he said, extending a large hand to her.

"Alex,” Alex responded, offering her own.

He took it gently, reverently, his eyes locking with hers and they stared at each other in silence for the second time in as many minutes-- until an old woman tapped Maglor on the shoulder, “If you two are quite finished…, I would like to order a Cappuccino, before I die!” Maglor and Alex traded smiles as their hands unlinked and they moved out of her way.

"I should really get back to work,” Maglor said, “Don’t forget, meet me at 1:15.”

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