Disclaimer: I certainly don't own Lord of the Rings. I apologize to all
the Mary Sue writers, but let's face it, it's an overdone genre, and a
tragedy to Tolkien, whom I am sure is rolling in his grave.
I do hope that everybody else enjoys this, and gets a few laughs.
----------------------------------------
Aragorn pressed his ear to the ground, straining to hear the faint footsteps of the creatures he pursued. Long had he been in the forest, stealthily trailing behind the small creatures. A chilly mist surrounded him, creating a curtain to obscure his vision and wipe away the footprints in the dirt. Gandalf had been most specific in his orders, that he was to keep a sharp eye on the Shire and to watch for the hobbits making haste towards Bree. Alas that he had fallen behind, and would now have to quicken his pace to watch for them.
The air grew harsher, and Aragorn began to run forward. His wet hair plastered to his face, his eyes were no less keen. For many years he had done this, though never before had he been assigned such a desperate mission. The days were growing foul and dark, a glimmer of the past joy and carefree times that were fading away with the threat of Mordor. Too long had the whole of Middle Earth been kept in senseless abandon, foolishly believing their safety was ensured from Sauron, the Dark Lord. No, the world was becoming more dangerous with each breath, and few knew of the encroaching danger.
He paused, listening to the faint echo of leaves crunching. After watching the Shire passively for the past few years, his senses were no less sharp. No one had followed him to this point. No one knew his mission. Perhaps the sound was merely a passing deer.
'It is not the season for deer,' he thought. 'Few creatures venture out in this part of the forest.'
His hand slid towards the longsword at his side, muscles tensing in preparation as the leaves continued to move softly. The mist grew thicker around him as he stepped forward silently, awaiting the presence he felt moving. Slowing his breathing, he gripped the sword tightly, drawing it from its sheath.
A soft breath alerted him to the presence ahead of him. Crouching into a defensive stance, he squinted his eyes, peering ahead.
"Halt!"
Aragorn froze, still staring ahead towards the unseen body. The voice was warm, a female voice, something he had not expected to hear out in the middle of nowhere. Frowning, he watched as a figure approached. She was tall, wrapped in a dark green cloak similar to his own, hood drawn up around a porcelain face half shadowed. She gripped a sword that was nearly half her size, the blade gleaming dully in the mists. Sharp blue eyes stared at him, a small smile gracing the full lips of the woman.
"Who are you?" he demanded. "Why does a woman wander so aimlessly in the wild?"
The laugh that emanated from her lips was like the crystal bells of the Elves, musical and magical in the same breath. "You ask who I am, sir, when it is you who have encroached upon my territory!" She lowered her sword, and removed her hood. Aragorn found himself staring into a beautiful face that rivaled that of his beloved Arwen, daughter of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. This woman was breathtaking, beauty surrounded in nature. Her dark clothes did nothing to hide the ample curves of her body, from the tight stretch of her tunic across her chest, to the gray leggings that ended in knee-high boots, dirtied from much trekking. He gasped in spite of himself.
"Forgive me, my lady, but I have never seen a woman in such a state," he said, lowering his own sword.
Tilting her head, allowing her touselled locks the color of fire to drift across her shoulders, the woman smiled again. "Well, it is little wonder, sir. I come from a little known place along the borders of Eriador," she answered. "I am called Talaria Silvermoon. Now tell me your name, handsome stranger."
Aragorn straightened himself, bowing low. "I am called Aragorn, my lady."
The woman's eyes brightened, her smile spreading across her face. "Aragorn," she repeated softly. "I have heard of you, ranger. Your travels are well known to me. Of course, I am certain that you are no match for me."
Blinking rapidly, he frowned slightly. "Do you mean to tell me that you yourself are a ranger?" he asked politely, though the disbelief crept up his spine.
Talaria nodded. "What else would I be doing out here? I have been trained by the most skilled of all rangers, and now I am on a mission of great importance. I have been sent to track four hobbits and escort them to Rivendell."
Aragorn stopped, his face a mixture of disbelief and amusement. Choking back a laugh and a smile, it took him several tries before he could say, "Four--four hobbits. And why are you on such a mission, my lady?"
She blinked, twirling a strand of hair between her slender fingers. "Because they carry something of great importance. I don't know what it is, but I was told that I must save them at all costs. Of course, if you do not get out of my way, Aragorn, I will be forced to prove to you that I am the better ranger."
'This is too much!' he thought. Inwardly, he was laughing so hard he thought his sides would split.
"My lady, I have no wish to fight you," he said. "I am merely amazed that you are on such a common mission."
Talaria's eyes brightened. "Now why say you that, Aragorn? You speak as if you are on the same mission!" For a moment she stared at him, before she gasped aloud. "Oh! You ARE on the same mission, are you not?" She moved forward, swaying her hips to and fro until she stood so close she was within grasping distance of the ranger. Her eyes moved slowly up his chest until she met his eyes, a sudden hunger overpowering her face.
Aragorn frowned. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly, cautiously taking a step backward.
She reached out and placed a hand upon the man's chest, inching her way closer to him. "Aragorn," she said softly. "I believe that we may be of assistance to each other. I suggest that we aid one another on this mission that we share. It will be most rewarding, I assure you."
A small tremble caught Aragorn's cheek as he gently pushed the woman away from him. "Talaria," he said, "I do not believe that we share any kind of mission. I believe that you are mistaken. I have no want nor desire to share my mission, for it was entrusted to me alone. I beg your pardon, Lady Talaria, but I cannot accept your offer."
Talaria's gentle features began to contort, her face twisting as he blue eyes began to water, her lower lip curling into the most beautiful pout he had ever seen. For a moment, he felt himself being drawn into the depths of her eyes, especially as she once again raised her hands to his chest, this time pushing her body against his until she was sure he felt the swell of her bosom against his well-defined chest. Tears blossomed, spilling down her cheeks as she tilted her head towards his. "But--but I must accompany you, Aragorn," she whimpered. "For I am alone in the forest and my mission is of the greatest importance. I must take care of the hobbits. And surely you could use a female companion! I can tell that you have not been in the company of a woman in quite some time. I assure you, Aragorn, you will not regret it."
Aragorn felt a strong desire within his chest to grab the woman and press his lips to hers, to hold her close in his arms and succumb to the wiles of this stranger. The quiver of her breasts against his chest caused his own manly desires to flame up.
Suddenly an image of the four hobbits he had to meet flashed into his mind, as well as the devastating consequences that would occur if the servants of the Dark Lord found them. His duty was clear cut, and he could not falter, not even to a woman in tears.
The twitch in his face returned as he moved back, firmly pushing Talaria away. Gasping for breath, he said, "I am sorry, Lady Talaria, but I must move on quickly. Light is fading, and I must follow the hobbits."
She blinked several times, as if unclear as to what he was telling her. Talaria shook herself out, causing her hair to shimmer in the mist, flowing free and wavy in the air, until it settled down her back, full and luxurious. The tears had been replaced with a stern lust that emanated from every fiber of her body. As Aragorn began to move away, Talaria moved in front of him, dropping her cloak upon the ground.
"All right, Aragorn. If that is what you must do, then I cannot stop you," she said sadly. "I suppose I will go on my way then."
Turning around, she leaned over to pick up her cloak, giving Aragorn a close view of her backside. Aragorn nearly choked, caught between running as far away as possible and pinning the woman to the forest floor. Talaria knew that he was frozen in place. As she stood back up, she stepped forward, and conveniently turned her ankle at precisely the right moment, causing her to fall forward with a cry.
"Oh!" She lay on the ground, clasping her ankle protectively. "I have injured my ankle. But do not mind me, Aragorn, I will be fine. Please, continue with your mission. I am certain that some other kind stranger will find me out here. . .alone. . .helpless."
Rolling his eyes, Aragorn sighed heavily. Sadly, the noble part of him realized that he could not leave a woman alone in the forest, especially one who was injured. Although her advances were quite disturbing, even tempting, he could not abandon her.
Stepping forward slowly, he crouched down beside her, looking at her ankle. "Let me inspect your injury," he said. As he gently touched the woman, she blinked wildly at him, eyes as large as dishes, portraying such innocence as can only be found in Disney creatures. Aragorn caught her eye, once again becoming enraptured by her wet beauty.
Talaria leapt forward, pinning Aragorn to the ground. "You cannot leave, Aragorn, now that we have only met just now! I am in love with you. I will follow you to the ends of Middle Earth, if I must!" she cried. "You must marry me! We will make a team of rangers unlike any other in the world."
As the woman began to rave, Aragorn saw the black fire burning in her eyes, and her face was becoming transformed. A dark figure hid behind the sultry beauty, the untouched innocence of her face, and suddenly it was clear. Aragorn's eyes widened, his breath cut short. He could feel the tentacles of the creature winding around him, pinning him down into submission, taking over his life, besting him at every ranger ability he had damn well earned himself! And all because of the voluptuous curves she was tempting him with. It could not happen!
Screaming, Aragorn shoved the woman off him, and scrambled to his feet. Grasping the handle of his sword, he stared down at the woman who lay on the ground. "You. . ." he gasped. "I have heard myths of creatures such as you, but in all my travels I have never met any. The dread, the horror, the endless pain and agony that comes from being held captive within your arms. Dark, fierce some creatures that can change shape and appearance, come out of nowhere and haunt a man for all his days. You. . .are a--" he could hardly allow himself to spit out the word-- "a. . .Mary Sue!"
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Aragorn pressed his ear to the ground, straining to hear the faint footsteps of the creatures he pursued. Long had he been in the forest, stealthily trailing behind the small creatures. A chilly mist surrounded him, creating a curtain to obscure his vision and wipe away the footprints in the dirt. Gandalf had been most specific in his orders, that he was to keep a sharp eye on the Shire and to watch for the hobbits making haste towards Bree. Alas that he had fallen behind, and would now have to quicken his pace to watch for them.
The air grew harsher, and Aragorn began to run forward. His wet hair plastered to his face, his eyes were no less keen. For many years he had done this, though never before had he been assigned such a desperate mission. The days were growing foul and dark, a glimmer of the past joy and carefree times that were fading away with the threat of Mordor. Too long had the whole of Middle Earth been kept in senseless abandon, foolishly believing their safety was ensured from Sauron, the Dark Lord. No, the world was becoming more dangerous with each breath, and few knew of the encroaching danger.
He paused, listening to the faint echo of leaves crunching. After watching the Shire passively for the past few years, his senses were no less sharp. No one had followed him to this point. No one knew his mission. Perhaps the sound was merely a passing deer.
'It is not the season for deer,' he thought. 'Few creatures venture out in this part of the forest.'
His hand slid towards the longsword at his side, muscles tensing in preparation as the leaves continued to move softly. The mist grew thicker around him as he stepped forward silently, awaiting the presence he felt moving. Slowing his breathing, he gripped the sword tightly, drawing it from its sheath.
A soft breath alerted him to the presence ahead of him. Crouching into a defensive stance, he squinted his eyes, peering ahead.
"Halt!"
Aragorn froze, still staring ahead towards the unseen body. The voice was warm, a female voice, something he had not expected to hear out in the middle of nowhere. Frowning, he watched as a figure approached. She was tall, wrapped in a dark green cloak similar to his own, hood drawn up around a porcelain face half shadowed. She gripped a sword that was nearly half her size, the blade gleaming dully in the mists. Sharp blue eyes stared at him, a small smile gracing the full lips of the woman.
"Who are you?" he demanded. "Why does a woman wander so aimlessly in the wild?"
The laugh that emanated from her lips was like the crystal bells of the Elves, musical and magical in the same breath. "You ask who I am, sir, when it is you who have encroached upon my territory!" She lowered her sword, and removed her hood. Aragorn found himself staring into a beautiful face that rivaled that of his beloved Arwen, daughter of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. This woman was breathtaking, beauty surrounded in nature. Her dark clothes did nothing to hide the ample curves of her body, from the tight stretch of her tunic across her chest, to the gray leggings that ended in knee-high boots, dirtied from much trekking. He gasped in spite of himself.
"Forgive me, my lady, but I have never seen a woman in such a state," he said, lowering his own sword.
Tilting her head, allowing her touselled locks the color of fire to drift across her shoulders, the woman smiled again. "Well, it is little wonder, sir. I come from a little known place along the borders of Eriador," she answered. "I am called Talaria Silvermoon. Now tell me your name, handsome stranger."
Aragorn straightened himself, bowing low. "I am called Aragorn, my lady."
The woman's eyes brightened, her smile spreading across her face. "Aragorn," she repeated softly. "I have heard of you, ranger. Your travels are well known to me. Of course, I am certain that you are no match for me."
Blinking rapidly, he frowned slightly. "Do you mean to tell me that you yourself are a ranger?" he asked politely, though the disbelief crept up his spine.
Talaria nodded. "What else would I be doing out here? I have been trained by the most skilled of all rangers, and now I am on a mission of great importance. I have been sent to track four hobbits and escort them to Rivendell."
Aragorn stopped, his face a mixture of disbelief and amusement. Choking back a laugh and a smile, it took him several tries before he could say, "Four--four hobbits. And why are you on such a mission, my lady?"
She blinked, twirling a strand of hair between her slender fingers. "Because they carry something of great importance. I don't know what it is, but I was told that I must save them at all costs. Of course, if you do not get out of my way, Aragorn, I will be forced to prove to you that I am the better ranger."
'This is too much!' he thought. Inwardly, he was laughing so hard he thought his sides would split.
"My lady, I have no wish to fight you," he said. "I am merely amazed that you are on such a common mission."
Talaria's eyes brightened. "Now why say you that, Aragorn? You speak as if you are on the same mission!" For a moment she stared at him, before she gasped aloud. "Oh! You ARE on the same mission, are you not?" She moved forward, swaying her hips to and fro until she stood so close she was within grasping distance of the ranger. Her eyes moved slowly up his chest until she met his eyes, a sudden hunger overpowering her face.
Aragorn frowned. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly, cautiously taking a step backward.
She reached out and placed a hand upon the man's chest, inching her way closer to him. "Aragorn," she said softly. "I believe that we may be of assistance to each other. I suggest that we aid one another on this mission that we share. It will be most rewarding, I assure you."
A small tremble caught Aragorn's cheek as he gently pushed the woman away from him. "Talaria," he said, "I do not believe that we share any kind of mission. I believe that you are mistaken. I have no want nor desire to share my mission, for it was entrusted to me alone. I beg your pardon, Lady Talaria, but I cannot accept your offer."
Talaria's gentle features began to contort, her face twisting as he blue eyes began to water, her lower lip curling into the most beautiful pout he had ever seen. For a moment, he felt himself being drawn into the depths of her eyes, especially as she once again raised her hands to his chest, this time pushing her body against his until she was sure he felt the swell of her bosom against his well-defined chest. Tears blossomed, spilling down her cheeks as she tilted her head towards his. "But--but I must accompany you, Aragorn," she whimpered. "For I am alone in the forest and my mission is of the greatest importance. I must take care of the hobbits. And surely you could use a female companion! I can tell that you have not been in the company of a woman in quite some time. I assure you, Aragorn, you will not regret it."
Aragorn felt a strong desire within his chest to grab the woman and press his lips to hers, to hold her close in his arms and succumb to the wiles of this stranger. The quiver of her breasts against his chest caused his own manly desires to flame up.
Suddenly an image of the four hobbits he had to meet flashed into his mind, as well as the devastating consequences that would occur if the servants of the Dark Lord found them. His duty was clear cut, and he could not falter, not even to a woman in tears.
The twitch in his face returned as he moved back, firmly pushing Talaria away. Gasping for breath, he said, "I am sorry, Lady Talaria, but I must move on quickly. Light is fading, and I must follow the hobbits."
She blinked several times, as if unclear as to what he was telling her. Talaria shook herself out, causing her hair to shimmer in the mist, flowing free and wavy in the air, until it settled down her back, full and luxurious. The tears had been replaced with a stern lust that emanated from every fiber of her body. As Aragorn began to move away, Talaria moved in front of him, dropping her cloak upon the ground.
"All right, Aragorn. If that is what you must do, then I cannot stop you," she said sadly. "I suppose I will go on my way then."
Turning around, she leaned over to pick up her cloak, giving Aragorn a close view of her backside. Aragorn nearly choked, caught between running as far away as possible and pinning the woman to the forest floor. Talaria knew that he was frozen in place. As she stood back up, she stepped forward, and conveniently turned her ankle at precisely the right moment, causing her to fall forward with a cry.
"Oh!" She lay on the ground, clasping her ankle protectively. "I have injured my ankle. But do not mind me, Aragorn, I will be fine. Please, continue with your mission. I am certain that some other kind stranger will find me out here. . .alone. . .helpless."
Rolling his eyes, Aragorn sighed heavily. Sadly, the noble part of him realized that he could not leave a woman alone in the forest, especially one who was injured. Although her advances were quite disturbing, even tempting, he could not abandon her.
Stepping forward slowly, he crouched down beside her, looking at her ankle. "Let me inspect your injury," he said. As he gently touched the woman, she blinked wildly at him, eyes as large as dishes, portraying such innocence as can only be found in Disney creatures. Aragorn caught her eye, once again becoming enraptured by her wet beauty.
Talaria leapt forward, pinning Aragorn to the ground. "You cannot leave, Aragorn, now that we have only met just now! I am in love with you. I will follow you to the ends of Middle Earth, if I must!" she cried. "You must marry me! We will make a team of rangers unlike any other in the world."
As the woman began to rave, Aragorn saw the black fire burning in her eyes, and her face was becoming transformed. A dark figure hid behind the sultry beauty, the untouched innocence of her face, and suddenly it was clear. Aragorn's eyes widened, his breath cut short. He could feel the tentacles of the creature winding around him, pinning him down into submission, taking over his life, besting him at every ranger ability he had damn well earned himself! And all because of the voluptuous curves she was tempting him with. It could not happen!
Screaming, Aragorn shoved the woman off him, and scrambled to his feet. Grasping the handle of his sword, he stared down at the woman who lay on the ground. "You. . ." he gasped. "I have heard myths of creatures such as you, but in all my travels I have never met any. The dread, the horror, the endless pain and agony that comes from being held captive within your arms. Dark, fierce some creatures that can change shape and appearance, come out of nowhere and haunt a man for all his days. You. . .are a--" he could hardly allow himself to spit out the word-- "a. . .Mary Sue!"