Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even the two writers.
Author's Note: Please read, enjoy, and review! Thanks!
They forced the writer into a chair, ignoring her desperate pleas.
"Faelas!" she screamed, begging for her freedom. "Faelas!" She had learned the word with the intent to give an OC that name. "Faelas!"
The elves looked disgusted. Haldir bound her tightly to the chair, using "real Elvish rope".
"Why?" spat Legolas bitterly. He was the group's leader. "Why should we show you mercy, you who gave none to us?"
She gulped and looked at her captors uncertainly. There were Faramir and Boromir. Lindir, Rumil, Orophin, Erestor, and Glorfindel hovered at the edge of the room. Aragorn was whispering to the twins. Eomer was congratulating Haldir on his knots. Even Elrond and Prince Imrahil sat in comfortable chairs, chatting softly about Middle-earth.
"Because you're elves," the authoress whimpered softly.
"Not all of us are," Legolas informed her.
"But you have mercy on all living creatures save the great, evil spiders of Mirkwood!" she shrieked.
"You do not qualify as a living creature anymore," hissed Celeborn venomously.
The writer cricked her neck trying to see him. Thranduil and Celeborn stood behind her chair. The other all seemed to agree; every single one of them nodded.
"Rather," the elf went on, "you are a demon that lives to cause misery and sucks the joy out of souls. You are a tyrant, ordering us – free-minded and mature children of Illuvatar – around at your will and pleasure. No humane person does that!"
"Yeah!" the others yelled, sounding very enthusiastic.
"I say we kill her!" yelled Boromir.
Legolas stepped in. "No. That would not help. There are hundreds, thousands, more of them – writers of her," he shot the write an evil look, "mindset. She is but one grain of sand along a never-ending shore. As much as ending her existence would relieve our tension, it would not end the crisis."
"But…but…but…" the authoress spluttered, "but how did you find me?"
Legolas grinned, but the smile did not reach his eyes.
"We have our informers."
"Indeed we do," Glorfindel spoke up. "That teenage girl who showed up earlier was most informative. We had to coax some of the information out of her, though."
Faramir bit his lip and held in a laugh. The girl had been informative, all right. She'd just asked to be allowed to spend a few days in Rivendell. "For research purposes," she'd said. After about three days, she'd told Legolas much of what she knew. Then, she had skipped away towards the road that led to the Shire, humming merrily.
The captive writer blanched.
"You won't… you wouldn't…"
"Miss, whatever limits or self-control we had, you and your kind have utterly destroyed," Aragorn said, breaking his silence. "What makes you think we enjoy being hassled by teenagers and forced to fall in love with them? The youngest of us is over thirty, and the elves are much older than that. We do not appreciate your meddling in our lives!"
"In short," Legolas cut in, "we are here – and, therefore, you are here – because of something called Mary-Sues."
The writer gulped. "What do you mean, milord?"
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged meaningful glances. The writer must not only be evil, she must be stupid as well.
"We mean Mary-Sues," said Legolas. "Duh."
Thranduil winced. He had no idea where his son had learned such a word.
The writer looked blank.
"Mary-Sues," the elf went on, "those teenage girl you writers put in Middle-earth."
"OC's?" the authoress asked, pretending not to understand him.
"Not 'Original Characters', Mary-Sues. They're lovely and have special powers. Most have a tragic past and angst about it all the time in the company of us," Legolas gestured to his compatriots. "That is not all. You 'authoresses' continually have us falling in love with them and having explicit sexual relationships with them. It is bad enough that you write about it, but then you go on to describe what goes on in nauseating detail! It is insufferable," the elf closed, out of breath.
The writer looked uncomfortable. Her eyes swept over the group of elves and men and found them all nodding at what Legolas had said.
Thranduil and Elrond stepped forward.
"We have noticed," began the latter, "that our children can no longer take the stress. Elladan and Elrohir will not journey anywhere without their sister or grandmother. Legolas is so jumpy he cannot be trusted with a weapon. This is your fault and the fault of those like you."
The older elves glared at the captive and then sat back down.
Legolas sighed, "We have established our anger at the situation, but not what we shall do to correct it. Any suggestions?"
"You could let me go," whispered the authoress.
Her captors all laughed mirthlessly.
"Do you really think we are willing to do that?" asked Legolas. "We seek revenge for the Mary-Sues."
"And the slash!" yelled Erestor and Glorfindel.
"Don't forget the male pregnancies!" Haldir shouted.
"Yes, all of that," Legolas continued. "You see, young lady, letting you go would not help us in our quest."
"But I don't write slash!" the writer howled. "Or mpreg! I just love you elves!"
"You write Mary-Sues," said Legolas, his eyes flashing dangerously, "and they are the worst havoc ever wrought by fan fiction writers upon Middle-earth. You are guilty of the most heinous crime in this world!"
"Isn't murder the worst?" the authoress whimpered.
"You did something worse than murder," commented Faramir quietly. "You took away our free will. You forced us to act against our natures. We will not – we cannot – allow you and your kind to go unpunished."
"Please! Let me go!" she begged. "I'll help you, I promise! Just let me go!" The writer broke down into sobs.
Legolas and Faramir exchanged glances. Should they let her go? No one else in the circles seemed the least inclined to do so, however.
"No," Aragorn smiled grimly. "I say no. She must be punished!"
"Yeah!" shouted the others. They sounded like a football team.
"I'll tell you the names of other Mary-Sue writers!" the authoress howled. "Just let me go!"
Legolas grinned, then played his trump card. "We don't need your information. One of our earlier informants revealed much in her agony."
As a matter of fact, the teenage girl had lent him her laptop and showed the elf how to use it. He had spent most of his time reading LOTR fan fiction and discovering the writers of Mary-Sues ever since. The "agony' bit referred to when she'd tripped over a sleeping Boromir and started yelling at him. Her language had been most interesting. Once again, Faramir had to strive to keep a straight face.
"If you don't need her, Legolas," said Boromir with a strange light in his eyes, "may I please kill her?"
The elf glanced at the captured writer once more.
"No, Boromir," he said slowly. "I have a better idea. She can work to repay all the wrongs she has done us."
"Ooo," whispered Lindir, "indentured servitude. This is gonna be good."
"Yeah!" everyone but the writer shouted in agreement with Legolas.
The authoress looked terrified.
"Take her away to the kitchens." Legolas waved a hand dismissively.
Rumil and Orophin untied the writer and dragged her off. Lindir followed, looking interested.
"From this day on," Legolas cried, "we will hunt down all writers of Mary-Sues! None shall survive our wrath! Hear us and witness, O Valar and Illuvatar! Never shall we turn back from this quest! Every Mary-Sue shall die!"
"Yeah!" the others cried.
"Mary-Sue writers, listen and learn!" shouted Faramir. "We are coming for you!"