Well, hello there. I am Duilin, lover of The Silmarillion. I love it so much that I have officially decided to write about my life with a plushie-turned-real-Elf. No, I have not gone mad.
You see, it's part of this collaboration; Plush Toy Series is on my profile, if you'd like more information on it!. If you'd like to join, you can PM me. The list of character's is on my good friend Cracker's profile.

Sorry that this chapter is quite long, but I had to introduce myself somehow.

-O-

The light was blinding.

And then, I lifted my head, meeting the gazes of several people as I realised that I had dozed off in the middle of class. Class. The one thing that I had to come this university for, and I had completely dismissed everything because I had been drowsy. So much for being a model student. I exchanged a glance with Will, the boy who sat next to me. He simply shook his head, locks of soft brown hair falling in front of his eyes, and I let out an inaudible sigh, relieved that I had not been caught.

It would have been perfectly fine, had I not done this for the fifth time in a row.

My mind was wandering, that much I could tell, but why was this happening to me? I consumed plenty of coffee this morning to ensure that I would not fall asleep, and I still did so.

When class was dismissed, I gathered my things, and the professor came up to me with a paper. Hesitant, I took it.

"This is a recommendation letter, to do research with Professor Linda Norris, on the west campus." Professor Bern's eyes twinkled knowingly. "I know that you would be interested in this sort of thing, so I suggested you for it. She'll be ready to see you on Monday."

I skimmed through the letter and found that my throat was dry and locked. I couldn't find any words to say. "Professor...I don't know how to thank you - "

"Just do your best," he replied. "I haven't seen Linda in a long time—tell her I said hello."

Breathing in, I nodded and proceeded to walk out the door, noting that it was original mahogany. But then, Professor Bern's voice stopped me, drifting to to me like a mist, but halting me like a stone wall. "I'm curious; are you having sleeping problems? This is the third time you fell asleep in class, and I've heard from Dr. Axel that you're fallen asleep in his class at least once as well."

My posture stiffened, and I could tell he could see it as well. "No... I am very sorry. It's probably lack of vitamins."

"Well, if you're sure... I hear that the hospital wing is only a few minutes walk from your dormitory."

I almost sighed in relief as I walked from the building.

The books seemed heavier than usual, but I kept my eyes open in case I tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. Then, I was startled fully awake by the cell-phone vibrating in my pocket. Rolling my eyes, because I figured it out, I pulled out the phone with a frown and slid it open. A text message. Why couldn't people be normal and call? That's what phones were for, right?

Tuesday, December 19th

from: Aksel
Hey! You're still coming back for Christmas, right?

I blinked as I ran my eyes over the text message. At least it was in proper English form. I contemplated sending a text message back, surprising my little brother, but I knew his heart wouldn't be able to take such a shock. Finally, his sister texted him back! Mom! Dad! Look! She texted me back! And she even purposely misspelled a few words and sacrificed her pride to text me back—perhaps I was exaggerating, but it wouldn't surprise me if he did so.

from: Aksel
Come on, sis, why aren't you responding? Don't tell me you're in class!
Those professors really got sticks up their anal orifices!

Faintly, I wondered what other creative insults he would come up with. So, I didn't respond.

Five seconds...

Four seconds...

Three...

Two...

And my phone exploded with worried texts.

from: Aksel
Come on! If this is your professor confiscating your phone,
then tell them that they can go die! I mean, that is so strict!
No wonder that Bern guy can't get a girl!

Sis! What are you doing?

Søster?

This isn't funny... Are you going to respond or not...?

No insults. Alright, I would reply.

But before I could...

from: Aksel
Drew!

It wasn't my fault, but I dropped my phone, onto the grass, sighing in relief when I realised it wouldn't crack. I glared at the screen and picked it up, fingers tightening on the sides. And then, I relaxed my grip and dialed Aksel's number, silently hoping that he didn't tell Mother or Father.

"You didn't respond!" he shouted from the phone, voice filled with annoyance but evident relief as well. "I was worried! Du bekymrer meg!"

"I'm sorry... I was a bit preoccupied with recovering from the initial shock of a vibrating in my pants—and no, do not take that the wrong way, you pervert! Listen, I know I worried you, and I'm sorry, but honestly, was there any need to call me that?"

I could hear the pout behind his voice. "You always have a slight aversion to your family members calling you by your birth name. What's with that?"

"You shocked me!"

"Really, are you just so adamant to stick to that bad symbolism of your name?"

"Maybe I am." Then, hiding my grin, I said, "Don't you dare smirk at me with that tone of voice!"

In the faint background, I could hear Freyr's voice, with that soft accent. "She's got you good, valp. Here, hand me the phone. I'll talk to her."

People were staring as they passed me on the street, probably wondering what had me in such high spirits, since I was grinning. I could tell, by the confused, slightly apprehensive looks on their faces. Mayhap it was my reputation as someone unnapproachable, but was it really so bad that everyone was afraid of me? I wonder. Was my outward appearance so frightening that people thought I was going to wack them with a spiked club?

"Listen, Hjørdis, are you coming back for Christmas or what? Everyone's pumped for the sword competition, and we can't compete with one champion missing. You know that. And Aksel's too young to compete unless—"

"Don't give me that dritt; Elena's the same age as Aksel, and she's competing."

"It's not my dritt. It's our family's dritt. Elena is a girl. You know there's no prohibitions against girls who want to compete at age thirteen."

"Our family is wack."

"Our family is Viking-oriented. Come on. What did you expect? So, are you coming home or what?"

I sighed. "I don't think I can, honestly."

"Why not? Those plagsom professors keeping you there?"

"Kind of. You see, I've got a letter...of recommendation, typed up by Professor David Bern himself, the strict guy with, as Aksel puts it, 'a stick up his anal orifice', so I can't miss out on this chance. It's recommending me to do research with Norris. You know, the professor that you met when you visited me on campus? She's still convinced we're twins."

Obviously, a light bulb was turned on in his brain, because he sounded understanding. Until I realised what he was saying. "Oh! You mean that woman who has a crush on that Barn guy?"

"Bern."

"Right, whatever. But are you saying you can't come home? That sucks."

"Sorry," I said apologetically. "But you know, if I really can't come back, tell Simon that he could use my dad's old sword, since he doesn't like to compete. I don't think the people at the post office here will appreciate me trying to mail a sword to Sommarøy."

I could hear him sighing into the phone's receiver, shifting to face Aksel. "Well, she can't come back, valp. Sorry to say this. Do you think we'd be able to convince Uncle Lukas—your pappa—to let you compete? I know Aunt Maeva would probably say no to you doing it, since she would kill me with any injury to you..."

"I dunno, Freyr. I mean, if we..." Then the conversation descended into rapidfire Norwegian, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Hey, lytt, Freyr. If you tell our pappa that I said anything about letting Aksel compete, I will skewer you on a cutlass and roast you over a freezing open fire. Got it? And that means hodet først."

"Yes, ma'am. Well, since your answer is clear, we'll call you tomorrow, all right? Aksel here has got to go to bed before he turns out like you—insomniatic and relying on coffee. Ha det!"

"Yeah, yeah, god natt," I told him, pressing the end to the call.

Then I glanced down at the letter tucked between my books, resisting a frustrated sigh on Bern's behalf. He had to choose the most inconvenient time to present this opportunity to me, and I wasn't sure whether or not I was itching to take it or just go back to Troms county.

When family and school conflicted, the thing that bothered me most was that I didn't know which one mattered the most, though it should have been obvious.

When I arrived at my apartment, I was surprised to find a package on my doorstep. I didn't understand what it could possibly be doing on my doorstep, since I had not even ordered anything within the past year. I almost wanted to smirk at the irony of it though—only less than an hour ago, I was talking about mailing my sword to another country.

So, I did the natural thing, and the good samaritan in me decided to pick up the package, go to my neighbour, knock on her door, and politely ask if this was her package.

Instead of a 'Oh, thank you! I was wondering when it would arrive,' I received a raised eyebrow and a 'Sorry, but I didn't order anything under the company of anything named MPT... Maybe you should just send it back with the phone number on the sti—huh? There's not a phone number anywhere. Oh well. Sorry, but it isn't mine.'

I received a similar response from my other neighbour, who so very politely told me to sod off.

In the end, I took the package into my apartment and sighed, placing it next to the laptop on the desk in my living room.

I sat down on the wooden chair and examined the label on the package, flipping the box around to find some sort of shipping number or something. And that was when I found it, the company name. This had to be a joke, I thought to myself when I found it. What kind of name was Melkor's Plush Toys? Well, there was no harm in carefully opening it; if I could make use of my skill and replace the contents inside of it later, they probably would not even be able to tell the difference between an opened package and a sealed one.

Slowly, I peeled back the tape and flipped open a fold of the cardboard, pulling aside tissue paper gently and cautiously.

To meet my eye, a plush toy sat in a bundle of stitched cloth and three sparkling gems pinned to his cloak. He was frowning.

I turned around, wondering if this was an April Fools joke in the middle of December. When no one jumped out yelling 'Punk'd you!', I turned back to the box and carefully pulled out a card sticking out from the sandy wrapping.

Hello! Since you have officially opened your box, you should know that you can't return it!

And at that, I threw the card down, swiped the box off the table, without even bothering to calmly read the rest of the blasted thing.

A period of rest sounded very tempting then. A shower would do just fine.

At the sound of running water, something extremely peculiar began to happen to the plush toy in the box. Slowly, a shadow began to rise from where the couch was, for that was were the plush toy landed. Instead of a plush toy emerging, however, there was a tall figure, dark-haired and intimidating. One could see three lights emitting holiness from his cloak, and when he saw the light as well, he pulled his cloak away from its original position to examine it.

"Míri-ninya," he said quietly.

Then he swept the cloak off of his shoulders and placed it over the couch to further examine it.

What was this place, anyway? It looked quite small, like Mahtan's forge when he was forced to close down half of it because that half was outside in the rain. And he was forced to close down half of it because Nerdanel would have had a fit wiith her father outside in the wet, coming inside later and getting muddy footprints all over the nice clean tiles...

Not that Mahtan ever cared about that, of course.

It was blue, and sunny, and the ocean looked beautiful. It was too bad, though, that some people were forbidden to swim. One of these people was a little girl, with a hat over her head, and an annoyed expression on her face. An extremely annoyed expression on her face.

Then there was her brother, a very tall young man who resembled her slightly, who had an amused expression (albeit worried) on his face as he spoke to her. "You can't swim out too far, okay? You know Mother said that you couldn't..."

"I know, I know, Matthias! But come on! When will I get to have any fun?"

A moment of hesitation. Then: "I'm coming with you."

A protest. "Matthias!"

"It's not safe for you to go out there alone, Drew..."

"Fine, fine, fine... Bekymret bror."

I was inhaling water.

Somehow, I had probably managed slip down the drain and out to the ocean, but it felt like I was drowning. Just like that time I nearly drowned. When I had gone swimming, my lung capacity obviously wasn't enough to sustain me under any sort of watery surface for more than twenty seconds.

Peculiarly, there was a light above me. The sun?

I brought my hand up to the light and was surprised to find fresh air hitting my fingers, and then it hit me, and I pulled my head above water as well.

I had fallen asleep in the bathtub.

There were times when relaxation went too far, but this was just ridiculous. Coughing up water was never very pleasant, and I had my fair share of that several years ago, but man, does it really burn like this when water goes back up your trachea?

I tried to stop gasping, but between the intervals of silence, I heard a faint sound.

A sound of footsteps.

-O-

Well, dun, dun, dun! This chapter was a bit longer than I thought it would be!
This is actually...me. Yes, I do have sleeping problems, though I wish I didn't...

Here are the translations, since there would no doubt be some foreign phrases...
Thank you to anonymous reviewer Siiw, for correcting bekymringsfullt to bekymret for me! I really appreciate it!

Norwegian:
bekymret bror - worrying brother
søster - sister
Du bekymrer meg! - You worry me!
valp - puppy
dritt - shit
plagsom - troublesome
lytt - listen
hodet først - head first
god natt - good night

Quenya (Because I am epic like that):
Míri-ninya -my jewels