Hey, everyone! Sorry it took so long for me to update! But I am back, back, back *evil grin*. Anywhooz, here, my friends, is chapter 2! Yes, we are at two whole chapters, folks! Thanks so much to my beta reader EphemeralFoxes for taking time to read through this fic, and thank you to anyone who has followed, favorited, or left a review so far.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my writing. I own not LOTR, nor NCIS, nor even Oz the Great and Powerful, but in all honesty I really wouldn't want to own that film, because it was as horribly cliche as remakes can possibly get. But enough of this. On to the chapter... and sorry to those of you who liked the new Oz film, if I have offended you or something.
Tauriel was walking on darkness and lingering traces of starlight, shadows dancing beneath her feet. She had to admit that the mind space between tales where no plotlines worked their weaving was quite a peaceful realm. She was almost reluctant to wake when the musical Elven voice shook her from her slumber.
"Welcome Tauriel of the Woodland realm," spoke the distinct voice of Lady Galadriel, whom she had never met but who had been present in so many fanfictions that it was easily recognizable, forcing Tauriel's eyes to open and her mind back to the story into which she had thrown herself. She was flat on her back in a dense grove of mallorns, and the Lady of Lorien was looking down at her.
She shook the dreams from her head and stared up at Galadriel. "So… I am in the forest of Lothlorien."
"No," Galadriel deadpanned, boring holes into the Mirkwood Elf with her piercing blue eyes. "You're in Hogwarts."
"Beging your pardon, Milady," said Tauriel, getting to her feet, "But you do not sound like a mysterious queen to me."
The Lady of the Wood shrugged her shoulders. "That description was abandoned long ago when the parody writers decided to portray me as a Sue-slayer and leader of the war against fangirls. I began slaying Mary-Sues, and all of the mystique and obscurity surrounding my character went up in flames. And given the circumstances," she gestured to Tauriel, "I shall have to deal you the same fate." It was then that Tauriel noticed the glinting dagger in Galadriel's hand. Galadriel followed her eyes and shook her head.
"No, you have it wrong, Lady Galadriel," she said quickly, holding up her hands in surrender. "I am neither a Sue nor a fangirl."
"That is what they all say," muttered Galadriel, following Tauriel's gaze to the knife in her hand. "No, I will not stab you. I simply send Mary Sues into Oz. They can always do with more munchkins, as the filmmakers obviously can't come up with any new ideas of their own and are probably going to do remakes of old classics for the next few centuries. Of course, an Elf like you might end up as one of the witches like those two OC's I sent there for their latest Valar-forsaken remake."
"Ugh," Tauriel interrupted, "That film had a two-diminsional plot and one-dimensional characters."
Galadriel pursed her lips. "Yes, I'm afraid that was my fault. The one in spandex was from a GFIME fic - hence the oddly 21st Century dress- and the blonde one was someone's twisted version of me. It was rather disturbing to watch on screen when the movie came out, mind you."
Tauriel stuck her tongue out in disgust towards popular culture's obvious lack of originality, creativity, and the will to put effort into their art forms, as Galadriel returned her mind to the situation at hand.
"Now I'm sorry about this," she informed the Mirkwood Elf, "but I cannot risk another Mary Sue running free in Middle Earth. I must ask you to remove all weapons from your person and put your hands behind your head." Tauriel's eyebrows shot up as she lifted her hands behind her head before the Lady.
"Milady, are you sure this is procedure?" asked a melodious male voice (did all voices in Lothlorien sound oddly musical, or was it just her?) from the entryway to the pavilion in which she had woken.
Haldir appeared at the doorway, his eyebrows quirked in puzzlement.
"Yes, I am quite sure this is procedure."
"But are you sure she is a Mary Sue? She would have asked for Legolas by now were she your average, badly written Sue."
"We shall question her and see," said the Lady gravely, tying Tauriel's wrists with a glowing rope that looked rather flimsy but stubbornly refused to break and leading her from the pavilion, Haldir in pursuit.
They strode quickly through the winding pathways of Caras Galadhon, between beams of sunlight and the whispers of dying mallorn leaves in the wind. Tauriel could see the same early signs of sickness upon this forest as she had come to recognize in her home of late.
She was lead to a smaller pavilion tangled in the roots of the forest. She would have put up more of a fight, but to attack the Lady of the Wood and her captain did not seem like a terribly wise choice to make before she learned the ways of this fanfiction. Despite all she had read, she did not know what was to become of her, nor the nature of whatever tale she had landed in.
She was seated at an intricately painted table as Galadriel left the room, and another woman entered. She had short-cropped, rust-colored hair, not quite as bright as Tauriel's, and she was not an Elf but a human woman, though she was dressed in the attire of Lothlorien.
"You are Tauriel of Mirkwood?" questioned Haldir, leaning his weight against a wooden pillar and crossing his arms over his chest.
She dipped her head. "I am. Why am I here?"
"We must decide upon your place in the quest of the Ring. You could be a Mary Sue, and we have dealt with many of that kind. It has never ended well for either party." Haldir lowered his eyes. "The mind and probably manhood of poor Legolas has been penetrated and tainted with seductive poisons."
Tauriel cringed at the images Haldir's words conjured up in her mind. "But why am I in such a place as this? It looks like Mary Poppins became the next interior decorator for the Secret Service if you understand such references."
"Well, yes," the strange woman admitted with a tip of her head in acknowledgment. "Ever since Lady Galadriel was exposed to popular culture in a crossover story with The Secret Life of the American Teenager." She shivered at the thought. "That tale was cursed. But ever since, the Lady has been absorbed in a strange entity known in other worlds as 'cop shows.' So absorbed that she has taken their methods for forcing confessions upon opponents to heart and ordered the creation of an interrogation chamber. This chamber is where you are now."
Tauriel glanced between them. Clearly Galadriel was just as learned in fanfiction as she was, which could be either an asset or an obstacle depending on what her two guardians made of her. Best not to lie, lest they reach into her mind like she knew the Lady could.
"I am the captain of Thranduil's guard. I am here to join the Fellowship."
"She is clearly after Legolas," Haldir growled even as she spoke, drawing his sword and aiming it for Tauriel's heart.
"No!" Tauriel stopped him, holding up her hands. "I am from the age of Smaug and Bilbo Baggins. Peter Jackson is creating another film, and he has created me to fall in love with a Dwarf prince. He wants me to fill the role of his Mary-Sue, to be involved in a" -she shuddered- "love triangle with this Dwarf and Legolas. I want simply to control my own destiny and escape the clutches of Sue-dom."
"Peace, Haldir," intervened the woman, "I think we should trust her. She clearly has suffered psychological trauma from her experiences." She turned to the seated Elf. "What is your story?"
"The fangirls and Sues were attacking our kingdom," Tauriel began. "The purists were gathing near Dol Guldur, plotting my death. There were fires and rallies each evening where they burned wax dolls of me and sang the chants of ancient tales. I was sent into fanfiction to escape this fate and to find a suitable mate for Prince Legolas."
Haldir and the woman shared a look. "Slash-fic?" they asked her at the same time.
Tauriel nodded. "Aragorn the Ranger."
Her female interrogator raised her eyebrows. "What about Arwen?"
"Arwen?" asked Haldir. "Elrond informed me some moons ago that Arwen was summoned a while back for a political parody in which the state of Middle Earth during the War of the Ring will somehow represent the United States' economic situation and the internal affairs of their government." He shook his head. "Arwen seemed to understand the call. With the upcoming Hobbit film, the fanfiction authors have been overlooking her presence, and she jumped to the occasion. No one has seen her for quite some time. It is possible she found herself shipped with a Rohirric politician, but I dare not ask."
"Wise choice," muttered the woman, turning back to Tauriel. "Modern age politics are not to be meddled with unless it is called upon you to involve yourself. You, Tauriel of Mirkwood, are released from your arrest."
Haldir lay a hand on her shoulder. "We need an alibi, Jennifer."
"Hrmph," she snorted disbelievingly. "No crime has been committed here. I doubt the Lady even knows what an alibi means; she just knows that before they arrest a criminal, the agents always ask for an alibi."
"She'd know what it meant if she watched Judge Judy," grumbled Haldir, but he was silenced by a dangerous look from 'Jennifer.'
"That show is the last thing we need Lady Galadriel fixated upon in such a stressful time," she informed him sharply. "Too much is at risk for our queen to disappear into another legal drama."
"If you do not mind, I would like to know who you are," Tauriel inquired, glancing at the woman who had just deemed her innocent of Sue-dom.
"Me? I am Jenny Shepherd, director -well, former director- of NCIS. We told you Galadriel was interested in cop shows?"
Tauriel nodded.
"Well, she got so upset when the show's producer killed me off that she summoned me to Middle Earth in a crossover fic, and here I have dwelt, interrogating Mary Sues whenever they come wandering into our borders and killing off the hostile ones that break through our defenses."
"Hmm," the Mirkwood Elf grunted. "These are strange times." She looked at Haldir. "So will you let me go? Will you allow me to join the Fellowship?"
Jenny and Haldir shared a look. "Celeborn won't be happy," said the Lorien Elf, but Jenny shrugged. "Celeborn can cope."
Tauriel looked to each of them curiously. "Celeborn can cope with what?"
"It matters not. You are released, and you must go to Lady Galadriel. The Fellowship will be arriving soon as they always do, and we will try our hardest to make sure you go with them. A slash-fic will definitely ward off the Sues. Best of luck, Tauriel." Jenny offered her hand, and Tauriel shook it.
Galadriel was standing beside her silver basin, gesturing towards its sacred water. "All 10th Walkers who aren't Mary Sues are required to look into the mirror, so they at least have some idea of their fates and don't screw up the story too badly."
Tauriel made a rather confused face, but did not utter a word in response, instead approaching the mirror. She tucked her hair safely behind her shoulder and lowered her face into the water.
Nothing happened. A hand tapped her shoulder, and she lifted her head once more.
"Just a moment." Galadriel looked at her apologetically, reaching down to the basin's pedestal. "I have to turn it on. My latest browser upgrade was for a more recent operating system, but I didn't read the fine print and installed it anyway. Now this thing requires me to turn it on and confirm use every time."
A small sign appeared in the water that stated 'SPOILER ALERT: The use of this device may or may not result in spoilers for the users future. Please confirm use.'
"Yeah, yeah," Galadriel growled, touching the surface over the 'yes' option. The sign disappeared, and Galadriel gestured for Tauriel to proceed.
The water rippled as she lowered her head into the pool. Fires and orcs materialized before her, burning a hill of grass and stone. "No, no," murmured a voice in the background. "We need the tab for Tauriel, not Frodo Baggins. Valar, I hate browser updates."
The scene changed to a kingdom atop a hill, surrounded by dying grasses and the smoke of pillaged towns. A woman clad in white stood atop the tower, her hair blowing in the wind. Four horseman galloped across the rocky plains, no banner to show their identities.
Rohan, mused Tauriel as the water rippled, and her view changed again. A spiked tower surrounded by mud and ruin lay before her now. She saw Legolas, Aragorn and two of the four hobbits chatting over cups of ale. Then the tower vanished, and before her materialized a figure robed in black and clad in golden armor, sword raised for the kill. The figure threw a fell blow, cleaving Tauriel's vision, and she stepped backward from the basin, her heart pounding in her chest.
"What does it all mean?" she asked Galadriel, as the Lady reached down to switch off her mirror.
"It means you must face your own enemy as well as those of your comrades."
"But can you tell me what the different visions show me, specifically?"
"Nay, for if I reveal too much of your destiny, it is no longer yours to decide."
Tauriel groaned. "Why must you be so cryptic? Does Celeborn know anything of use?"
She could see Galadriel lower her eyes at the mention of her husband. "Celeborn knows nothing, not even of your presence here," she confessed sheepishly, "for he is a bit on the… purist side of things. I think it comes from being subject to so many mpreg fics, but I never broached the matter before. It is a relatively touchy subject with him."
"Celeborn is a purist?" Tauriel gaped at her. "As in, doesn't buy the films purist or raging Tauriel-witch-hunt purist?"
Galadriel cringed slightly. "Somewhere in the middle," she answered, then added quickly, "But closer to the former. Do not worry."
"Milady," Haldir peered around the corner. "The Fellowship has arrived."
A smile lit Galadriel's face. "Right on schedule," she announced cheerfully, glancing at the date and time in the corner of her mirror. "I shall greet them."
"In that case," said Tauriel as she strode from the room, "I must retrieve my computer and continue my research on Aragorn/Legolas slash-fic."
Read and review, folks! Stormwalker out.