Disclaimer: This is an un "beta"-ed work in progress. If you recognize anything, chances are, it isn't mine. This is a story about Mary Sues. If you haven't noticed, my protagonist is named, Donroth, after the author a.k.a. Me. It's a parody. It's supposed to screw up canon. It's hopefully funny. That said, reviews would be really great, flames would be interesting to get and constructive criticism is begged for. If you're still set on reading this, thank you for your time and please don't say I didn't warn you. =)
Note: Those who want to skip the most nauseatingly sue parts might want to skip to the second half of this chapter.
Golden liquid lightly flowed from the crystal fountain and into the mithril cup. A few streams spilled onto the delicate hand holding it and down the slender arm of its owner. The Lady Donroth smiled as she suppressed the giggle that threatened to escape, as the fluid tickled her flawless cream skin. Naturally, the excess liquid magically evaporated before it could stain her white satin gown.
Ah, the simple pleasures were what she loved most about Arda. Lifting the cup to her crimson lips, she let the Lothlorien miruvor glide down her exquisite throat as her warm hazel eyes scanned the ballroom.
The sound of soft lyres mingled with the most exotic of voices that rivaled even Maglor's and Daeron's combined talents. But of course they would. The musicians were being led by no less than Udiel, Feanor's daughter, whose passion and genius for music made her elder brother's compositions sound like yrchs mating.
The Lady Donroth gracefully lifted the hem of her gown ever so slightly as she seemingly glided across the hall, lithely maneuvering through the sea of skillful dancers, unable to resist the temptation of spinning every now and then to the melody. She paused momentarily to allow Lord Finrod to twirl the Lady Isilme, whom he had met and fallen in love with after the Lady Amarie refused to accompany him to Middle Earth. As they passed, in beat to the music, the Lady Donroth lightly stepped forward and finally made her way to the main hall leading to the palace's many private sitting rooms.
The Lady Donroth was, for the lack of a more appropriate word, beautiful. Not even Luthien, in all her fabled beauty could possibly compare. However, striking, she was not. Her beauty, sadly, was as common within these halls as one of the priceless rubies kept within King Thranduil's coffers.
Though this had never bothered her in the least. She had always taken the beauty as she had taken the grace, benevolence, intelligence, wit, and over-all perfection – with complete apathy. All she had cared for were the harmonious songs, delectable wine, and exquisite eye candy that were readily available to her in her new home.
Of course no one could really call Arda her new home. After all, she had been here for the past 16,000 years after she had inexplicably woken up at Cuiviénen along with Ingwe, Elwe, Finwe and the others gifted with foreknowledge that seems to abruptly end upon the commencement Arda's fourth age. She had made acquaintances and friends since then, some she even considered as family. She had even found her true calling –well as much of a calling as she could have considering the circumstances.
Stepping through the hall lined with Míriel's and Vaire's exceptional tapestries, she curtsied her poised respects to the many passing dignitaries. She blushed slightly as the Lord Erestor kissed her hand in greeting, the Lady Helena hanging upon his arm as usual. He had always been such a flirt.
She paused at the entrance of a room to wave a greeting to her friend, the princess, Ruithien. There, she briefly eavesdropped upon the daughters-in-law of Feanor as they laughingly reminisced amongst themselves about how "that stupid oath" kept their husbands from their beds for the better part of an age.
"Thank goodness, you used that silver unicorn of yours to steal back those gaudy jewels from Morgoth, Ellaine," the princess Calawelatheiliel told her sister-in-law.
"I only wished I could have done it sooner," the other princess sighed.
"Of course she does," the princess Gildenwen butted in. "I'm sure she misses what Maedhros can do with both his hands."
As the room erupted with tinkles of laughter, Princess Ruithien returned the greeting and the Lady Donroth went on her way.
Passing the three adjoining rooms containing the Lords Elladan's and Elrohir's many conquests, she turned to the right as the hall diverged into two passages.
Eru knows she did not want to end up in the holding halls of the Prince Legolas' countless wives. Many a newcomer who strayed down there never came back. A rare few were able to return, and definitely not unscathed. The Lady Donroth shuddered at the thought as she returned the smile the Lord Glorfindel greeted her with. Why on Arda was he alone, baffled her. But she knew better than to strike up a conversation with him, lest she suddenly find her fea within the halls of Mandos, her poor hroa being chopped up by any or all of his numerous lovers.
Finally, she came to the unassuming door at the end of the passage. Quite inconspicuous for sure, considering it was the only closed and bolted one in the entire palace. Knocking in the rhythmic code of the secret order, she heard the click of many locks and patiently waited as the door slowly opened.
A heavily veiled head peered out from behind the still partially closed door. It was a pathetic attempt to hide the lustrous amber locks that lay concealed within as two soft tendrils peeked from underneath the coarse wool. The Lady Donroth soon found two sapphire eyes narrow at her exposed head and sooner had a similar gray piece of cloth thrust into her available hand. Rolling her eyes, the Lady Donroth complied with the silent order and nimbly tucked her auburn tresses away.
"There," she stated. "Now, may I enter?" she pointedly looked at the doorkeeper.
"Very well," the soft but irritated voice replied.
The attractive doorkeeper stepped aside – allowing Donroth to squeeze through the quarter opening – and immediately shut and bolted the door behind her once Donroth was fully in the room. As the doorkeeper secured every single one of the twenty locks bolting the door from ceiling to floor, Donroth surveyed the room's other occupants.
Everyone was already there. Kira, the raven-haired beauty, was as usual angst-fully moping in a dark corner, still lamenting in silence for the day she would be returned to Earth. Jasmine was suffocating her fiery mane and emerald eyes in the pipeweed chamber with Silver-haired Ashley and Golden-locked Kylie. River-Daughter Erika sat on the couch consoling the Vala Nienna's supposed sister, Rianna, while 4th ringbearer Anya calmly turned the page of her latest tome, elegantly seated upon a pile of velvet cushions. Racquel, after having made sure that the door had been bolted more impenetrable than the gates of Angband, moved toward the little stove to attend to the pot of tea about to boil. Donroth sighed and took her seat across Anya. All was the way it should be. It was the 547,209,479th official meeting of the Sue'cide club of Middle Earth.
Killing a sue was no easy matter. Slaying the hroa only made a sue's fea take a little respite in Mandos' Halls. This only succeeded in making the Vala who owned said halls to become very cranky. The SCOME already had to rent a substantially large library at Nargothrond just to house all the letters of complaint received from the disgruntled Vala, not to mention the occasional writ of curse that would issue after a particularly pesky sue would suddenly find her lovely way into his halls.
Banishing a sue to the Void used to be an attractive option. That is, it was, before Morgoth and Sauron started turning them into vampire sues, fallen avari sues, all-things-dark-and-evil-but-still-extremely-sexy sues and the like before sending them straight back to Arda to cause even more havoc than before. Of course, when a particularly powerful sue with her one-locket-to-rule-them-all took control of the void, rehoused both dark lords into uber-hot elven bodies and made them her bdsm love slaves, Manwe and the other Valar had to step in. Banished to the void as the dark lords were, the Valar, after all, did not believe in cruel, unusual and in-Ainur punishment. Naturally, this resulted to a restraining order on SCOME to stay clear of the Void for a radius of at least 50,000,000 leagues.
Of all the attempts to eliminate a sue, they succeeded an estimated zero amount of times.
"Ahem," Raquel daintily cleared her throat as carried the gilded tray of tea and crumpets towards the leaf-shaped marble tea table in the center of the room. "Perhaps we ought to get started," she prompted the other members.
At the signal, the occupants of the pipeweed chamber filed out, billows of smoke escaping into the room. Anya lifted her head from her tome to shoot glares at the source as Kylie, Jasmine and Ashley sheepishly took their seats around the table. Rianna stopped sobbing and restrained herself to the occasional sniffle while Kira moved her sulking self from the dark corner to a relatively shadowy chair three steps closer to the table. Having set the tray down, Raquel took the remaining chair and the members of SCOME, observing the utmost etiquette, helped themselves to the traditional tea and crumpets.
Ignoring the disapproving looks Raquel was giving her, Donroth spiked her tea with some of the miruvor she had left and offered the quarter-full goblet to Jasmine, who graciously accepted. The goblet was passed around until it was confiscated by Racquel, thankfully, after it had already been completely drained.
"I do not see how all of you can partake of such a sinful vice, particularly at a time like this," Racuel reprimanded.
"Come now, you make it sound as if we're sleeping with a canon character," Donroth teased.
"Hmm, now that's a thought," Anya smiled as the room giggled, well, except of course for Rianna who merely sadly smiled for a second and Kira who never laughed.
"Well, Donroth-Sue and Anya-Sue, how many times must I remind you of the gravity of our responsibility?" The room groaned as Racquel began one of her trademark lectures.
"Yes, Racquel-Sue, we know. You need not remind us yet again," Donroth told Racquel, attempting to conceal the patronizing tone.
"These are dire circumstances indeed. After our last failure, we are rapidly running out of options," Racquel continued, ignoring her.
"Racquel-Sue, we've been running out of options since the beginning of the First Age," Kylie pointed out.
Racquel sighed. She miserably put her head into her delicate hands. Everyone in the room immediately felt remorseful.
"There now, it will be all right," Erika soothed. "We nearly succeeded the last time."
"Succeeded?" Racquel cried out, startling everyone in the room. "What do you mean almost succeeded? The supposed High-Queen of the Noldor laughed at us and then invited us to try out her newly installed hot tub at Gil-Galad's Palace O' Love! I do not think that is anywhere near successful!" she ranted.
"Calm down, Racquel-Sue. We're trying the best we can," Donroth said, trying to calm her hyperventilating SCOME sister.
"I cannot calm down! I… hate… you… Erika… Sue…" Racquel trailed off as she fell under the spell of Erika's song and peacefully slumped down onto her chair.
"Erika-Sue, that's enough," Donroth said as she struggled to fight off the urge to snuggle up to one of Anya's cushions.
"Sorry, but I had to," Erika genuinely apologized as she stopped her song of comfort. The SCOME nodded in understanding.
"She does make a point though," Anya stated. "Trying to exorcise the sue didn't work at all."
"Well, it did make sense," Kylie reasoned. "The Great T was catholic. Catholic exorcism should have worked."
"Yes, well, I suppose sues are more resilient than demons," Anya pointed out.
"True," Kylie conceded. "But it did look hopeful for a bit when we sprayed her with holy water. I mean, she did cringe."
"Well, maybe that's just because we got her new pink chiffon gown wet," Rianna sniffled.
The room was thoughtfully silent.
"Maybe it is time we accepted our fate and that of Arda," Kira offered from the shadows. The room turned to her, shocked since this was the first time she had spoken in three ages.
"You cannot be serious?" Racquel exclaimed, breaking out of Erika's spell.
"I am," Kira replied.
Her words were voiced with such finality that no one dared speak. Donroth looked from one face to another. Even Racquel looked resigned. As the concept started to sink in, Donroth began to panic. True, she had always treated the sisterhood lightly. She always teased Racquel and her "traditions". But SCOME could not possibly end! This was what kept them sane in the midst of all the hedonism.
"No!" Donroth cried as she abruptly stood. "We cannot give up! Think of Arda! Think of the Arda we once worshipped! Think of the insipid children who rape the most noble of the Edain, Eldar and the Ainur! Think of elvish polygamy! Think of the phrase 'Amin mela lle' and faeries in Arda!" she pleaded with her SCOME-sisters. Unfortunately, leadership was not on the list of sue abilities that Donroth was gifted with. She watched in dismay as, one by one, her sisters left the room, leaving her alone with half-eaten crumpets and a pile of discarded gray veils.