A/N: So, hi, there! I'm the newest troll author who's been spewing out the demon spawn puke you've been seeing on fanfiction lately. You probably can't read half of it anyway because of deplorable spelling errors on almost every word. Anyway, this is a fic that deals with the 'antagonists' of the story. Basically, their feelings, multiple assassination attempts on our sue lovable protagonist angel, reactions to Twitwi the hellspawn, etc.! This will (hopefully) not murder any of your brain cells!
...
Arwen knew something was very wrong as soon as she saw the harlot fly into Imladris with feathered wings, as if she was an eagle of Manwë that was meant to be in the air. She later wished that the... Thing had stayed up there. Let the king of the Valar rectify the situation where mere elves could not. At that particular moment, however, Arwen had wanted to help the poor thing. Something terrible had obviously happened to her to cause her to look so... Grotesque!
The girl's hair was easily five feet long, reaching her knees at her abnormally large height. Its exceptionally bizarre detail was the multitude of disgustingly bright colors that flashed and migrated to different areas of the unnaturally shiny locks. Her breasts were so swollen that they could not at all have been supported by her stick-thin waist. She was inappropriately dressed, clad only in a short rag that barely covered her chest and painfully tight blue trousers that stopped at her knees. The most horrifying detail about this girl was her eyes, however. They were a disturbing combination of blue and red, so wide that they occupied almost half her face!
Before the urge to offer her assistance had risen to the forefront of her mind, however, Arwen's first instinct was to scream in terror. Fortunately, she managed to contain her emotions as soon as she had gathered her wits about her.
Unfortunately, the instinct returned as she witnessed her father lose all semblance of dignity he had ever carried about him, (which was so great that the very air around him spoke of wisdom and grace), and dote upon this peculiar stranger as if she were a queen and he was her humble servant. He had shed his wit and adopted the look of a foolish creature who was most certainly not Elrond, the lord of Imladris! It was a sickening transformation.
It was not long at all before the girl had gathered a crowd about her that simply would not silence themselves about her beauty, intelligence, power, and any other detail they could fabricate in their now simple minds.
This was, understandably, horribly confusing for poor Arwen. Five minutes after this abomination had landed in the courtyard, and she had gathered herself a posse of loyal worshippers who had emptied themselves of all sanity and thrown themselves at her feet. These Elves had lived long lives, fought in many battles, and witnessed many events that were now legend in their years in Arda. She knew them personally, had spoken with them, forged friendships with them... Something was very, horribly, wrong if they were praising this new girl for false deeds she had not done and drooling over her unnatural looks, calling it beauty.
As much as she wished to free the minds of her friends and family, however, Arwen knew she would have to bide her time. She was knew that the gaggle of mindless, garbage-spewing elves would not stand for a direct confrontation. As the weeks wore on, however, she could feel herself slipping into despair. She could not even hold an intelligent conversation anymore. She found herself desperately wishing for another who could very clearly see the damage being dealt by this... This monster!
Arwen knew that her situation had gotten much more serious, however, when she found her love escaping several Nazgûl with a company of Hobbits.
...
Please review!