Disclaimers and A/N: This concept - the Plushie Project - is not of my own creation. It is a product of the great minds of CrackinAndProudOfIt and Duilin. If you want to know more about it, contact them, because I have merely taken part in the project by writing down my own version of the strange Tolkien-inspired occurance of "a life sized Elfin plushie starts bunking on your couch".

If you think Gwenniel - obviously not a Tolkien character - seems like a Mary-Sue, I hope that you will tell me so. She is me and I am her - Gwenniel is what I am known on deviantart, for example. And I am in no way a Mary-Sue myself, but you always have to be careful with author-inserts. Be relieved: "Gwenniel" is not to become a romantic interest - in fact no one will. Except maybe Celegorm because he's just too swoonworthy. =P

Chapter 1 - A huge box! The events gets started

The regular morning in a Finnish suburb of the quieter kind, was abruptly disturbed as a truck turned to the lane, blocking cars and early dog-walkers as it stopped by the white gate and dropped off a box looking bag, or was it a bag booking box, but it was big nonetheless, a luggage one would take along only if one was going for a very long journey or going to smuggle kittens.

Gwenniel was already awake when the beeping of the backing truck started. In truth, Gwenniel was no morning person, but even as the bad sleeping habits she had lately come to develop kept her awake to 2am, she still woke up 9am at the latest. Thus, putting aside her phone in which she had been doing some research, she decided she could as well quit her bedroom and go see where the beeping came from.

"What's with the noise outside?" she greeted her mother as she came to the kitchen, still swinging due to low blood pressure.

"A big delivery, it seems," her mother replied, teacup in hand, as she stood by the window, watching outside with a frown on her face. The boxy bag had now been left on the half-melted snow-patch on the lawn next to the driveway.

Gwenniel frowned as well. "Has dad ordered something that big?"

"Not that I know of," her mother sighed. "Listen, I'm going to take the dog for a walk now. You have breakfast, and we'll see if we unpack that trunk later or wait until dad gets home."

Gwenniel nodded. As she started toasting her bread, her mother finished her tea and put on her coat. Calling out a bye! to her daughter, she put the dog on a leash and left. As Gwenniel started to eat the bread, now toasted, the door opened again.

"Gwen?"

"Yes?"

"I checked on the box. The address is ours, but there are no names on it."

"Okay."

"And it's not delivered from within Finland, I think. So if anyone calls, they might be asking for the box. Just so you know."

"Okay, mum."

The door slammed shut. Gwen went on with her bread eating, pondering on what to do today. Studying, drawing fanart, studying, cello, computer. Same as usual it seemed. Great: nothing like a systematic schedule. She placed her plate and empty glass in the dishwasher, went to her room, changed to her everyday clothes and picked up her phone:

Big box dropped off on our yard. It's not even meant for us. =P I hope it gets picked up soon by its rightful owner.

Living in this small suburb in Finland, Gwenniel was a girl who possessed several of the traits you would expect from somebody of her age and gender. She would within a matter of months hopefully be granted the chance of becoming a university Freshman, but not letting the upcoming entrance exams disturb her too much, she was generally preoccupied by the internet connection on her phone and literature. One of those less-expected traits that were characteristic to Gwenniel was that she was one of those lucky people to know what the Silmarillion was about. This had become her advantage in making online friends, but also her disadvantage as she became obsessed in the Elfin kind and overall becoming very selective in what she would read and not read.

The knock came too soon for it to be her mother to return from the morning walk. Besides, Gwen reasoned, why would mum knock. Half anxious, she peeked out the window, wondering whether she should pretend nobody was home. Not that she was afraid or anything, she just... was hardly able to carry out unexpected live conversations with strangers. But crouching behind the window, she saw two young men standing outside the front door. And one of them noticed her. Dammit, she thought and sunk down to her knees. Now there was no point in pretending anything. Thoughts rushing through her head, the realisation of that these men in their winter coats and long hair were probably here after the box that had arrived, made sense. Curious looking guys really: Gwen hadn't seen the two men that well - she wasn't wearing glasses and had been hiding behind the flowerpots on the window shelf anyway - but the young men had had something about them, something else besides the long hair falling below their shoulders from beneath their hats, something else besides the fact that the guys looked handsome enough to be Elves or something, (because, no, Gwenniel had not checked them out, no way - she just happened to love fantasy literature, especially that by professor Tolkien, so Elves were naturally on the to of her mind).

Drawing deep breath, opening the door, wondering whether the men spoke Finnish, Swedish, both or neither, she opened the door and smiled best as she could at the strangers outside her house. "Hei," she said. A common, casual, polite enough greeting Gwenniel uses even for strangers one had never met before. And it was very convenient, too, because the greeting meant the same and sounded the same both in Swedish and Finnish and even in English.

The men, one with golden curly locks, the other (the one who had seen her in the window) with dark straight hair, turned both to look at her. The blonde man gave her a dazzling smile. "Huomenta!" he bade good morning in fluent Finnish. Gwen was glad - the language barrier had been overcome.

"Can I help you?" she asked, still clinging to the door she hadn't opened all the way up.

"Our belongings came here, so naturally we would follow," the blonde replied. "I hope you are ready."

"Sorry?"

"You accepted us to come to stay with you." The stranger really looked confused and he turned to look at his comrade who merely shrugged.

"I am sorry," Gwenniel replied, just as confused. "I don't know anything about anyone staying with us, my dad's not home, and I don't know your names, I'm afraid..."

"Oh, I beg your pardon," the man turned back to her, smiling again. "You remember how you accepted our visit, because you are Gwenniel, aren't you?" he suddenly looked worried, but smiled again as the girl nodded in reply. "Well here we are, as in living person as circumstances allow. Celegorm and Curufin, sons of Fëanor of the Noldor of the Eldar!"

It took a moment to decipher the pragmatic meaning of the statement. But then it all made sense. And Gwenniel's head was spinning.

"Two elves need your help; give a hand and a home. Adopt today."

The ad again. The cursor arrow immediately clicked the "x" in the right-hand corner of the persistent square that had been popping up the whole session. I don't have time for this! Gwenniel grumbled. All she had planned to do on the internet was to check up a factual detail on the Kalmar Union so that she could go back to studying for her finals in History. Being pursued by pesty spam had been the last thing she wanted to do. She clicked her way onto the next page. "Two elves need your he-""No way, they don't! Stop bogging me!" Clicking away ad once again, she tried not to shout at an inanimate object. One last look at the information she had gathered, and she was ready. Sighing in relief, she opened her deviantart message box in another tab. "Two elves need-" "Gaah!" she shouted and slammed the keyboard. "Fine, fine, fine, have it your way." She let the white arrow click the button that said "OK". "But it's not okay," she reminded the ad that was happily replaced by another thanking for her generosity - then that ad disappeared as well. Clicking away from the browser altogether, she picked up her History notes and got back to her books scattered around the room...

"That was spamming! What do people do with their lives nowadays? #pissedoff"

"Curufin says you need something stronger," Celegorm said referring to the glass of strong liquor that his brother was holding towards the speechless mortal. " It's alcohol, though, and I don't know how you Edain..."

"It's okay, I'm over 18," Gwenniel said and accepted the drink. Actually, she was generally a non-drinker, but actually she generally also didn't have two Noldorin princes sitting in her living room. The drink seemed strong, which it was and Gwen shuddered a bit, but the after-taste was surprisingly good. (The one who had handed it to her was an Elf after all, and anything made by Elves was of course nothing less than superb.) "Um, hantalë," Gwenniel said to Curufin, attempting to remember all the phrases she knew in Quenya - not that many actually, as she had always studied the tales more than the tongue. Curufin, however, gave a small smile in approval and replied a long sentence in Elvish.

"My brother says you are welcome," Celegorm translated quickly, "and apologizes of that he doesn't yet know your language, but assures that he will amend the flaw as soon as possible."

Gwenniel nodded and took another sip of the drink, but put down the glass after that, deciding that the drink was probably strong enough to make her drunk sooner than her Elfin guests suspected. (Drunk mortal and two Elves - that is no plot for this story.) "Lord Celegorm," she asked hesitantly, "how come you speak Finnish so fluently, then?"

"That is an easy question," Celegorm replied, with a prideful straightening of his back. "I happen to be omnilingual. I have knowledge of all the tongues of birds and beasts, so obviously Finnish is no problem."

"Obviously," Gwenniel echoed him.

They sat in silence, the Elves examining their surroundings, Gwenniel leaning her head into her hand from the dizziness the liquor had now resulted into and desperately trying to comprehend the situation and thinking of how to entertain her guests, and the fridge in the kitchen making small noises every now and then.

As Celegorm had explained it with the help of Curufin, the page that Gwenniel had clicked away as a mere ad had been all serious. The two Elves needed a home to stay in during their visit to Middle-Earth to prove their redemption. They had been given surrogate-bodies to house them during their stay - Celegorm compared the situation to plushies, because he and his brother, although looking, feeling and working just like real children of Ilúvatar, were actually fëas inhabiting dummies that just had the same bodily functions as Elves. (The Valar would this way have better control of the two of them roaming around Arda, apparently.) When asking how come they were let out from Valinor anyway, Gwenniel had been explained to that in order for them to be released from Mandos, the two sons of Fëanor had been given a task: they must show their kindness towards weaker beings and fulfil deeds of honour and/or goodwill. "Only then can we rejoin our kin in Tirion," Celegorm had said.

"I see," Gwenniel lied. "But how come you want to stay here in my home? Surely there are many others to choose - I mean, not as if I wouldn't be thrilled and honoured to have you here, but..." she trailed of, wondering whether she was blushing. (She was.)

The Elf looked at his brother who shrugged again, not really following the dialogue in the language he did not understand. Celegorm asked something in Quenya to which Curufin replied, looking rather smug. "Because," Celegorm returned back to Gwen and replied earnestly, "you are one of the very few who openly admits that she would not mind having my brother and I living under the same roof as her."

Now there was no more doubt of that Gwenniel certainly was blushing. She looked away, knowing that Celegorm wasn't lying.

These Elves had not always been her favourite characters in her wonderful favourite book called The Silmarillion, but during the past two or three years she had come to accept that she was a fangirl of two of the maybe most infamous Noldorin princes ever. (Pages of fanfic and megabytes of fanart tell no lies.) Of course, every Noldo that had ever lived had a place in her heart, but Celegorm and Curufin were her favourites, especially Celegorm who now stood in front of her, frowning, his hands resting in his hips. Momentarily mesmerised by his shining hair, his glittering eyes, his dazzling aura and the way a dimple was formed when he quirked his lips, Gwenniel had to bite her tongue in order to focus on something else. Because one does not simply stare at an Elfin Lord, thousands of years older than oneself is anyway, Erudammit.

"I said, 'then you'll have to write an evaluation on us to Mandos'," he repeated, as Gwenniel returned from her thoughts.

"You are quite the hackers," the mortal sighed. The blonde Elf lord frowned and his brother looked questioning. "You found me proclaiming loyalty to Noldor on a fanforum, you searched up my name and address, and then you spammed by browser. Now you come to me in your Aulë-made bodies only to live in the guest room for the foreseeable future. Really..." She halted in her monologue by standing up (as she wasn't dizzy anymore) and walking over to the window. "If I were in your situation, I would book a hotel room rather than bunk with some rapid fan who writes fanfiction about me."

Celegorm snorted, highly amused, spoke quickly in Quenya, causing Curufin to laugh as well. "You do not see it?" Celegorm laughed, "The advantages of living with two Eldar who have sworn an Oath to aid the mortal race (because if they don't, it'll mean another ten millennia inside the Halls)?"

Gwenniel stood by the window in silence, obviously trying not to think about the advantages - as if this wasn't awkward enough. The large box that contained the Elf Lords' belongings stood still by the driveway. The gate opened and slammed shut as her mother returned home. A tiny bow-wow was soon heard outside the door. Celegorm looked up happy. "Your dog!" he said and opened the front door to let the dog in. The animal rushed in without noticing who the one standing at the door was, until suddenly stopping to sniff the floors of the house and looking up at the Elf. He barked happily (the dog, that is, but soon the Elf as well), and as they greeted each other in their own language, Gwenniel looked at Curufin with a questioning look. Curufin shrugged and rolled his eyes in a "you know how my brother is"-fashion. Gwen grinned back. Actually she had no idea on how Celegorm was asides from what her head-canon told her. But then she shook her head, pulling away the grin, and rushed to the door before her mother would open it.

She peeked out through the door. "Hey mum?" she called her. "I've got a couple of new friends - um, they're guests."

"Okay. Somebody I know?"

"Well..." Gwenniel thought hard. Technically yes, her mother was rather well versed in the stories of the Noldor since she, after all, had read The Silmarillion and lived in the same house as Gwen. But it was still no easy deal to explain that two Noldor would be living in their house because of some pop-up-trolling. "Mum, remember how we once talked about maybe hosting an exchange student? This is basically it, except for that-" She got interrupted by Celegorm and Curufin as they came to take a look outside as well.

"Good morning!" Celegorm said, once again giving one of the smiles. "You must be Gwenniel's mother. I think you've heard about us as well. Allow me to present ourselves: Curufin and I, Celegorm."

Gwenniel quickly interrupted the introduction. "Mum, I know this is kinda strange, but they need a place to stay and we do have a guestroom. And they'll behave and all, and besides... Um... I'm... so it's... Eh, I just meant to ask if they can stay."

"So, suddenly somebody is all eager to let us stay," Celegorm remarked with a laugh. "You should remember that by accepting us in your house we will make a deal that shouldn't be broken. We don't want another Nargothrond incident, do we?"

"No we don't - wait what? Nargothrond?" Gwenniel turned to face the Elves looming behind her, a foot taller than she. Trying to look determined in front of the royal highnesses, she crossed her arms. "If you are going to usurp anything you won't be released from Mandos after all," she said.

"Usurp?" Celegorm gasped theatrically. "Judging by the stories you have written, one would think you know better than anyone that Orodreth's version of the story is nothing but lies."

Gwenniel frowned. No arguing there. Yet she was one to stand behind her principles until the bitter end. "You may be royals, but I will not treat you as such. My house, my rules, Finland is no monarchy, and you depend on me if you want that evaluation for Mandos."

Celegorm sneered and looked just as haughty as one would expect him to look, but after a brief exchange with his brother he sighed. "That is true," he admitted. "We did not come here to conquer lands but to prove our goodwill." Curufin nodded contentedly, causing Gwenniel to suspect it was he who had put those words in his brother's mouth. Which was actually just as well, because Gwenniel's mother was standing near them, observing the debate and finally having her say in the matter.

"Gwen, did you ever actually discuss this idea with dad or me? Or even mention it?"

"No, because it wasn't really my idea, but-"

"If they are to stay here longer-"

"They won't become permanent guests or anything, so-"

"If I had known they would come today I would have went to the store yesterday."

"Mum, I didn't know, and frankly I still don't know how this is even possible-"

"Ladies, ladies, my brother and I will cause no trouble during our stay. Worry not, ma'am, we will go to the store in your stead; fear not, maiden, we shall come to regard you as a sister - the only thing we ask in return is your support in our attempt to be accepted into Valinor in our bodies remade."

Both women fell silent. The younger felt the mesmerised state-of-mind return and quickly shook her head. The older, more sensible one, wondered how on earth this was even possible, though the situation really did confirm her suspicions on the identities of her daughter's favourite Elves.

"Gwenniel," she said at last, "you do know where we keep the bedlinen. Go make ready the guestroom."

There was no need to tell her twice. Gwenniel was already on her way.

"My mum is cool. Seriously. She's just as awesome as my luck today! :D Yesterday I was an only child, today I have 2 brothers."

(to be continued - I swear!)