A/N: This is edit number THREE of this chapter O_o I promised that I'd begin updating this story again by Halloween, and I'm still working on chapter 11- however, there are a few revisions I need to do with the rest of this story. Just for the record, I'm rewriting this entire aslkdjfls thing, as opposed to just editing minor grammar errors like I was originally planning. I'm gonna end up with a headache … XP The whole thing is going to be more obnoxious, and I am going to use more sarcasm- even in the prose ;) To those of you who read the last two versions of this chapter, let me know if the sarcastic prose works; I still haven't decided if I like it.
By the way, the Sue herself scored a whopping 207 on the Mary-Sue Litmus Test xD
Also … to those of you that are reading this for the first time, IT'S A PARODY! It's supposed to be stupid, and the character is supposed to be a Mary-Sue, so please don't flame me and tell me how Sue-ish she is- that's the point! :P You will probably notice that Gandalf in particular is NOT IN CHARACTER. That's on purpose.
Last thing: I have re-drawn the cover and will probably put the new one up at some point soonish, but for now, there will be a temporary cover I made on paint.
Many thanks to my beta reader, Snowfire the Kitsune. :)
Disclaimer: All I own is my O.C.'s and my brain. Wait a second . . . oh, CRAP! I lost it again! Has anyone seen a brain anywhere? I might have left it with my sanity in my locker . . .
Chapter One: The Obnoxiously Suish Sue
Nimril Elithil Melbereth Glossiel sat in the middle of a small clearing in the forest. She sat upon a tree stump, which had magically sprouted a soft pillow of grass for her. Many small woodland animals clustered around the edge of the clearing, each one trying to hear the beautiful music that floated through the air.
Nimril herself was even more beautiful than the day; her long, flowing golden locks outshone the sun. Her creamy white skin practically sparkled. The faintest scent of lilac hung in the air around her, and a small, crescent shaped scar very nearly marred her perfect face- of course, Nimril's beauty more than overpowered any (gasp!) ugliness the scar might possibly cause. A mithril star hung around her neck. Her dazzling lavender eyes were lowered demurely as she lightly strummed a harp made of silver and pearl. She sang softly about how annoyingly perfect she was- just kidding. Nimril was far too modest to sing about herself, and so instead she sang of Imladris, her home.
As she sang, daisies and roses bloomed at her feet and adorned the hem of her ruby-red gown. The normally-flowerless trees that encircled the clearing sprouted white blossoms at the sound of her voice, and a falcon's cry echoed in the woods as the bird swooped down to land on Nimril's shoulder.
"Hello, Gwaeren," she murmured, stroking the falcon's wing. The white wolf beside her tensed slightly as Gwaeren landed, but a glance from Nimril calmed her.
"Nimril!" A voice called from a short distance away. "Where are you?"
"I am here," she called softly, and a black haired ellon stepped into the clearing, taking care not to tread on any of the newly bloomed flowers. He smiled when he saw her. "Hello, Elladan," the absolutely perfect Elf said to her adoptive brother.
"There you are! Father is searching for you. He says that he has very important news for you." He extended a hand, which Nimril took before rising gracefully. She tucked her harp into her bag before raising a hand so it was level with her shoulder. Gwaeren stepped lightly onto her wrist before gliding down to Helchien's shoulder. The wolf shivered at the weight, but otherwise she didn't move.
"Shall I ask Rosspen to carry me home?" The ellon nodded.
"You must have come farther than you thought, sister. It is nearly an hour's walk back to Imladris."
"An hour? Truly? Well, then I will call for Helegion as well; he will bear you back home." She produced a small flute from her bag and played a short tune on it. After a minute, two animals raced into the clearing. One was a majestic horse, a silver mare with black speckled wings. "Rosspen," the elleth murmured, stroking the pegasus' nose. The other was a snow leopard. His coat was whiter than the cleanest snow, and covered with small black spots, each one ringed in gray. His wide shoulders and broad paws were those of a climbing cat, and his piercing blue eyes stared up at Nimril.
Command us, my lady, the leopard whispered. His speech was easily heard and understood in the mind of his mistress, but to Elladan, the sound was only a hiss.
Please bring me and my brother to Imladris, Rosspen and Helegion, Nimril replied through her thoughts. The leopard and the pegasus bowed their heads, allowing Nimril and Elladan to mount them.
A moment later, the two Elves were racing through the forest, Nimril on Rosspen, Elladan on Helegion. Nimril smiled as Rosspen galloped into Imladris ahead of Helegion, her hooves clattering loudly on the light brown stones. She rode through the bright, sunlit valley and down to the Last Homely House, the house of Lord Elrond. Her adoptive father stood in front of the entrance, staring at her intently. Nimril reined Rosspen to a halt in front of him, dismounted easily, and curtsied to the Elf.
"Dhe suilon, Nimril."
"Mae g'ovannen, Adar. Elladan has told me that you have news for me."
"Yes. Today, I am hosting a great council, and I would like you to attend. Your knowledge will be most helpful, and your presence will be calming to the others. We will be discussing the One Ring." He shuddered slightly as he said the evil name. Nimril bowed her head in submission.
"Of course I will come. Whatever you wish, my lord. I trust that Frodo is well again?" A few days before, Nimril's magical singing had healed Frodo from his wound. It would never fade completely, even with her skills.
"After the miracle you performed, sellig, of course he is well. Why, just this morning, I saw him walking in the gardens with his friend."
"Oh, I didn't do much," Nimril replied modestly, shaking her head and smiling. "Elladan, come and greet our father." The ellon stepped forwards and bowed to Elrond.
"Father, will you tell her of your other surprise?" He whispered, trying hard to prevent Nimril from hearing. Naturally, it didn't work; after all, Nimril's hearing was far advanced from that of the other Elves'.
"Tell me of what, Father?" Elrond smiled.
"You know of Mithrandir's arrival." She nodded.
"I have."
"He will be schooling you in magic, starting today." Nimril gasped. Magic? From Mithrandir? He was one of the greatest of the five Ithryn!
"Oh, but Adar! I am not worthy to learn magic, not from a true Ithron! Besides, I am sure I do not have the skill."
"Nonsense. Your mother was a Maia! Any descendant of a Maia is worthy of learning magic."
Nimril's delicate lips turned downwards slightly, her eyes saddening at the mention of her mother.
"If you wish it to be so, my lord, it shall be so," she whispered, closing her eyes against the tears, which were threatening to spill. Elrond nodded, satisfied.
"Good. He shall meet you in the courtyard soon. He will instruct you for one hour, and then you will have another hour before the Council meets."
"I shall see you there, then?"
"You shall. Farewell, and good luck with your magic studies." Elrond kissed his daughter on the cheek, and then he turned, his robes swishing as he departed. Elladan winked at her, and then followed.
Later, in the courtyard, Nimril was seated on a stone bench when Gandalf appeared. His dull gray robes swirled around his feet, a tall blue hat sat on his head, and he held a gnarled wooden staff.
"'Ullo, Lady," Gandalf said, bowing low to her. She smiled.
"Greetings, Mithrandir. Father says that you are to instruct me in magic."
"Aye. Take this practice staff; ye will receive a far better one after yer trainin' is complete." He handed her a tall, ornately carved white staff. There was a large globe on either end, and the handle was carved into a twisting swirl.
"I hope you didn't go to much trouble, finding such a fine staff that I will only use in practice," she said softly, running one hand along the handle. The wood felt cool and slippery beneath her fingers, like it has been raised from a sapling just to be made into her staff.
"Oh, no, it was no trouble at all. Anythin' fer you, Lady Nimril." She blushed and took the staff.
"Mithrandir, I'm not so important."
"You are, m'lady. You are the adopted daughter of Lord Elrond. You'll receive only the best from me." Nimril smiled at him, a dazzlingly bright smile that could even enchant an Uruk-hai.
"Thank you, Mithrandir."
"Of course. Let us begin."
Elvish translations:
Nimril = white brilliance
Elithil = moon star
Melbereth = love queen
Glossiel = daughter of snow
Gwaeren = Windy
Helchien = Daughter of Bitter Cold One
Rosspen = Rainy One
Helegion = Son of Ice
Elleth= female Elf
Ellon = male Elf
Dhe suilon = I greet you/greetings
Mae g'ovannen = Well met
Sellig = daughter
Ithron (Plural Ithryn) = Wizard
