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Dru Tavington sat in her bedroom, sulking as she listened to her Lord of the Rings soundtrack. She had many reasons to be sitting there sulking, the main one being that she wasn't really sure what else to do.
See, Dru had a highly difficult problem. Her friends had stopped calling her. Of course they'd been very discreet about it, but after awhile it became hard to notice, even for her. And she hadn't the faintest idea why. Although it had vaguely occurred to her that it might have something to do with the fact that she had started insisting they call her 'Lady Druscilla'. Or occasionally 'Lady Druscilla Tavington'. Or, if she was feeling really out there, 'Lady Druscilla Ophelia Annabelle Tavington', with the occasion 'milady', 'her royal majesty', or 'the beloved' thrown in for good measure.
The truth was, Dru had a disorder, one that had become increasingly more common after the fifteenth of December in the year two thousand and one. It was a complex known by the more hip of scientists as FROS, also known as Fake Ringer Obsession Syndrome. Now because of budget cuts, the health boards of every country except Guatemala refused to accept this complex as an actual disorder, but it was one. Oh boy, was it one.
FROS was mainly common in young girls between the ages of 13 and 16, although there have been reported cases of every age and gender. FROS occurs when said subject sees The Lord of the Rings. Only in extremely rare cases has it not occurred on the first viewing.
In every case the subject had no previous knowledge of the books, or (in most cases) even their existence, hence the placing of the 'fake'. The subjects did not even pertain enough knowledge of events to be complete obsessors, which makes them even more pitiful than general ROS, also known as Ringers, who really aren't that pitiful at all. Well, they are, but in the same way that Trekkies and Jedis are… at least they're recognized.
Now the 'Ringer' part should be painfully, blatantly obvious. But just in case, here's a hint: They like Lord of the Rings.
So to put Dru's disorder in simpler terms: she saw Lord of the Rings, liked the cute boys, and decided she was secretly an elf princess who could do absolutely anything. She then proceeded to clutter fanfic sites with lots of pointless, never-finished stories in which she out-fought everyone, single-handedly destroyed the ring, and married Legolas, whose sole job was to smile lots and look pretty.
So back to Dru, left sulking in her bedroom. While we were explaining her disorder, she had come up with a plan to relieve her boredom and depression. Because every sixteen year old girl in her town had depression. Dru's plan was this: write another meaningless fanfic to post, complete with a summary that ended "PLZ R&R! BeCaUsE iT's ReAlLy GoOd!"
So Dru sat down at her computer, and began to type. She stopped to ponder for a minute before coming up with her title: "The Rebel Elf Who Loved Legolas."
But no sooner had she typed the 's' than a great electric shock shot through her keyboard and into her hands. It wasn't actually enough to harm her, except that she fell backward in surprise and hit her table. She actually still would have been alright, except that then the blender fell on her head and knocked her out.
When Dru woke up, she was no longer in her bedroom. In fact, she was no longer in a room period. She was lying on her back, staring at the sky. The ground was cold and hard underneath her, which for some reason came as a complete shock.
Utterly confused, she was still lying on the ground when she heard the thump of footsteps running toward her. Strong arms pulled her to her feet, and Dru looked around expecting Legolas. After all, it was quite clear that she was obviously in Middle Earth. Duh.
But Legolas wasn't there. Startled, Dru looked down from her 5 foot 9 inches to see Frodo standing at her feet, barely reaching her waist. "Who are you?" she asked stupidly, wondering how on earth he had managed to pull her up.
Frodo looked at her for a moment. "Two-Four-Six-Oh-Oooooooooone!" he sang loudly, throwing his arms out on the 'one' and catching her in the stomach.
Dru stared at him. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something seemed wrong. Not one to worry, Dru shrugged. "Great, um, can I come with you to Rivendell, because I'm totally good at fighting and stuff, and I really, really want to meet Legolas, because, like, I love him, and like, I know he loves me, and like, I'm going to get married to him."
"Alright, why not, if I ever go theeeeeeeere," he agreed, singing on one note. "Let's go-o hooooooooooome!"
And without so much as a by your leave, he dragged her off to his house.