A/N: Like last chapter, I didn't change too much. There are a few differences in wording and I changed some of the last few paragraphs, and that's about it. There will also be more sarcastic commentary- 'cuz I can :P
Chapter 4: The Council of Nimrod- er, I mean Nimril ;)
"The Council of Elrond will now come to order," Elrond announced, taking his seat t the head of the circle. Mora rolled her eyes and ignored the lengthy, speech that the Elf lord began, instead choosing to take notes on the state of things.
All the members of the Council were badly affected by the presence of Nimril. All of the Elves were staring at her stupidly, the dwarves were smiling and whispering to one another, all the Men were watching her carefully and glaring at the others, Gandalf was smiling proudly (he'd gotten the seat next to her) and the Hobbits were gazing at her in awe, very closely resembling a pair of deer in headlights.
Mora flipped open her new black book and took a dull pencil from behind her ear, starting to divide each page in half. She placed a heading at the top of each section. The topics were the members of the Council. She had to assess how much damage had been done by this particular Sue, and the lists were long. Elrond was acting like a judge. Every single Elf was staring at Nimril as if in a trance of adoration. The Dwarves had absolutely no issue sitting next to their sworn enemies- unless Nimril's affections were at stake, of course-, and the Hobbits . . . well, they seemed to be the worst. Mora cringed as she read her lists, which were becoming steadily longer. She added a few columns of attributes that had remained the same about some characters. Those lists were miniscule.
"Father, may I be the first to share my story?" Nimril asked softly. She certainly didn't wait to share her sob story, Mora thought. She flipped to a blank page and titled it "Sob Story."
"Of course, my daughter." Nimril stood and walked to the center of the circle.
"My mother, a Maia named Isilmiel, was wed to an Elf of Lórien named Fairion. I was born 1,000 years ago, before the One Ring had truly become a problem yet. My father-name was Glossiel, as I was born with hair whiter than snow. I was later named 'Melbereth' by my mother on her deathbed. My father became a cruel and evil Elf after the death of Isilmiel. He forced me to work as a slave, and whenever I resisted, he beat me." She brushed a bit of hair away from her cheek, revealing her crescent-shaped scar. There was a collective gasp. "He did this to me."
Mora made a note, and her frown deepened.
"Three years ago, I became tired of his abuse, and so I ran. I fled his house on my own feet, taking nothing but this pendant with me." She showed off her mithril star. "It was a gift from my mother. When I had run for many days, I came across a snow leopard. I spoke to him and tamed him, learning that his name was Helegion. I asked Helegion to carry me to Rivendell, and he agreed."
Mora mentally face-palmed as she wrote. The "sob story" was clearly meant to distract the Council from its true purpose, and thus far Nimril had been doing a spectacular job of just that.
"Kindly Lord Elrond took me in, and he soon adopted me as his own daughter."
Yeah, right.
"Dear Arwen didn't take kindly to my arrival, unfortunately. Since I joined her family, she has been cruel and unkind to me."
Gag.
A few small tears escaped the corners of her eyes, causing a sigh of pity from everyone in the room. "It was only until my Lord Elrond locked her in the dungeon that her brutal attacks stopped."
Mora inhaled sharply. The Evenstar was in a dungeon? Not good. She would have to be released soon; she could prove a valuable ally, as long as she wasn't deluded too badly by Nimril.
"Elladan and Elrohir, however, have been quite kind, and they've made my life here very pleasant, indeed." The twins blushed simultaneously. "It wasn't long before I met Helchien and Gwaeren, a white wolf and a falcon, and I found Rosspen, a pegasus, a few years ago. They've helped me to cope with my grief." The Sue smiled shakily through her tears and sat down.
"It is true; my own daughter was attacked by Arwen. I had to lock that whining traitor in the dungeon to shield Nimril from her jealous rages," Elrond proclaimed.
Mora was stunned into silence. Things were much, much worse than she had originally thought; Elrond was no longer referring to Arwen as his daughter! That had never happened before ... there had to be a very powerful evil behind all this . . . no foe like anyone she had ever faced before. There was research to be done, but first, she had to pay attention to the drama fest- ahem, "Council".
There were several others who should have given lengthy speeches on their experiences regarding the Ring, but most of the stories were cut short. Elrond's own dialogue was no longer than two minutes, where it should have lasted nearly a full hour- naturally there had to be space for Nimril's ever-so-lovely sob story. Glóin didn't speak at all; he was too awed by the Sue to dare speak in her presence. By the time the Council came to an end (a full three hours before it should have) Mora was infuriated. The last straw, however, was when Nimril once again stood and announced,
"Although I have experienced much sorrow in this life, I shall submit to more still for the betterment of Middle-earth. I will do what I can for the good of this world, and I will carry the Ring." Elrond smiled and seemed about to speak, but Mora refused to stay silent any longer. She flew to her feet and strode into the center of the meeting hall. Wincing slightly, she shouted a single word:
"TOLO!"
Come.
She had spoken a Word of Command. When used in everyday speech by any other race, they were powerless, but when spoken alone by a Guardian of the Original Tale, the Words of Command could override any spell, any mystic power, and especially any Mary-Sue influence. The particular word Mora had used would do something unseen in Middle-earth since the First Age. She had summoned the Valar to Rivendell.
