Hi guys. This fic isn't dead, I swear! It's actually undead, undead, undead... Terrible Bauhaus jokes aside, though, I do hope to be updating this more frequently :)

I'm Ro. Ro Oliphant. That's not my real name, obviously, but after the ...events... that I'm about to relate, everyone involved had to sign up for the WPFPP - Witness Protection for Fantasy Peoples Program.
It all started out so normally, until the battered FedEx box showed up on the doorstep. But I digress. I suppose it all really started with the pop-up ad that I stupidly clicked on. I mean, who wouldn't want to adopt some fictional characters? Stupid, stupid me.

~earlier~

'Mum, has the postie been yet?' I called down the hallway, sticking a stamp onto my letter.

'No, not yet. And here it's mailman, not postie.'

'Soree.' I walked down the driveway, left my letter in the mailbox with the little flag up, then quickly retreated back to the house. Like all Scots, I burned easily, and even after living for a month the blazing American sunshine, I was starting to worry that even Factor 50 sun cream wouldn't be enough.

Inside, I checked my email, Facebook, the usual. Then this annoying pop-up ad appeared. Click here for the chance to be able to welcome your favourite fantasy characters into your home!
 I grinned, thinking of some fantasy characters I definitely wouldn't mind having in my house. Gollum, for one. He'd make an awesome attack dog. Or a couple of Uruk-Hai to act as bodyguards at my new school. Or a Vashta Nerada. Or a Thestral. Or a Ringwraith...

Yeah, I'm weird like that. Anyway, I clicked on the ad, expecting it to take me to some prank website, or something, but instead the text in the pop-up ad changed to read, Your application has been accepted. Please wait for verification. Then, a few minutes later: Your application has been verified. Please wait for delivery.

Application? Delivery? For a moment, I wondered what I'd gotten myself into. Then I shrugged it off. It was probably just a scam. And over the next few days, what with unpacking all our stuff and everything, I forgot all about it.

'A crystal ball, Manwë? Really?' Tulkas peered into the aforementioned globe. Manwë nodded, still smiling happily. 'Isn't it useful? We can track the FedEx box's progress from the comfort of-' He glanced around, then settled on, 'this mountaintop.'
'Is the box supposed to be getting bumped around that much?' Yavanna asked, looking worried.
Manwë looked into the crystal ball and frowned. 'I don't think so...but I'm sure everything will be fine.'
And the FedEx box containing the plushie-Valar continued on its journey...

'The postie's here!' I looked out the living room window to watch the mail can go slowly down the street. The guy had stopped to have a conversation with our next door neighbour, but a few minutes later he drove forward a little to deposit a small wad of envelopes - mostly junk mail or letters and bills forwarded from our old home - in our mailbox and made to drive off. Instead, though, he consulted a piece of paper before getting out of the van to leave a box on our doorstep and then drive on to the next house.

'Mum, the guy left a parcel!'

'Really? I haven't ordered anything. Maybe it's a mistake...go and check, will you?'
I obediently opened the screen door and retrieved the parcel, noting that it was an extremely battered FedEx box. It was addressed to The Random Oliphaunt. 'Huh.'

'Well, that's odd,' Mum said. She looked at the address label. 'the Random Oliphaunt?'

'It's my screen name...' I explained. 'But I definitely haven't ordered anything under my pen name.'

'Well, it's definitely addressed to us. Open it up and let's have a look.'

I took the box into the living room and attempted to remove the tape.

'Do you want me to get you a knife, or something?' Mum asked.

'No, I can do this...ha!' I ripped open the FedEx box and stared at its contents. 'Weird.' I pulled out five plushies, who all looked rather the worse for wear.

'Dolls?' Mum said, examining one. Three were male and two female; they were all dressed in mediaeval-style clothes. One of them, who was dressed in black robes, had a tear in his plushie face where the nose should have been. I looked inside the box and pulled out what looked like a tiny plush nose. 'I guess we could always sew it back on.'

'Who do you think they're supposed to be?' Mum said.

'They could be Valar,' I mused.

'Are they from Lord of the Rings?'

'Silmarillion. Close, though.'

Mum looked sceptical. 'I doubt there's a market for dolls that look like Silmarillion characters.'

'That's what they could be, though,' I insisted. 'See, this one could be Nienna.' I held up a female doll that had silver thread embroidered on her cheeks, like tear tracks. 'And this guy could be Morgoth.' I pointed at the noseless one. 'He looks dark lord-y.' I put down Nienna and Morgoth and picked up one with well-muscled arms that was wearing an apron of some sort. 'He could be Aulë. He looks like he works in a forge.'

'What about this one?' Mum picked up the other female one.

'Varda, maybe?' I shrugged. 'This one's pretty cute.' I held up the last one, who had dark hair and a stern expression. 'Don't know who he is, though.'

'But who on earth sent them?' Mum wondered. I picked up the box and looked for the return address.
'Um...I don't think it was anyone on earth...' I pointed at the return address label, which read: 'Manwë Súlimo, Ilmarin, Taniquetil, Valinor.'

'So they were either sent by a fictional character, or it's just a prank,' Mum said.
I nodded absently and arranged the five plushies on the sofa. 'Either way, let's keep them.'

'Cute! She thinks Námo is cute!' Vairë shrieked in fury. Manwë raised his hands in a placating gesture.
'Peace, Vairë. She thinks a plush doll containing Námo's fëa is cute. It's a completely different thing.'

'I still want him back,' Vairë said, folding her arms and glaring at Manwë. Yavanna joined her by the crystal ball.
'I, too, would be happier if Aulë was back at home.'

'Of course, Kementári. Do you think I do not miss Varda?'

'Look!' Ulmo exclaimed, pointing at the crystal ball. The other Valar crowded round it.

'They are waking.'