Chapter 9: Lammoth
In which the author takes a break from the story to unveil her new plan to defeat her alter ego.
Listen, everybody, this story has gotten out of hand. I admit it. It was supposed to be a silly tale about Fëanor escaping from Mandos and doing awesome Fëanor-y things like killing Balrogs and inventing new alphabets and building impossibly cool stuff. All my favourite and unfavourite Tolkien characters would make appearances. That's why I thought I might just as well put myself in it, too.
Well, I was wrong, and I've learnt my lesson: writing author avatars is fucking dangerous, pardon my Dwarvish.
In hindsight, I should have seen it coming. I should have realized that my instinctive dislike of authority would lead to this. I know Erwen claims she's doing this for revenge, but she's lying. Well, no, she does want revenge, but she's not telling the whole truth. She would have rebelled anyway, trust me.
If all I was fighting was a mirror image of myself, it wouldn't be too bad. Theoretically, that should give me a 50-50 chance of winning, no? But she's got plenty of Noldorin princes on her side, including the migtiest elf that ever lived. How on earth am I going to fight against Fëanor? I don't have a single Balrog. If anyone has got any spare Balrogs, PLEASE SEND THEM TO ME ASAP. I may need them in case my plan doesn't work.
Yes, that's right, I've thought of a plan. Is this the point where I should laugh maniacally? No, that's only for evil masterminds, and I am not evil. Wait, scratch that - I just asked people to send me their spare Balrogs, that probably classifies me as evil. And now that we sorted that out, let me tell you about my plan, because I am apparently an evil mastermind and that's what evil masterminds do. I suppose I should have tied you to the chair and placed it over a vat of boiling sharks or something, but I'm afraid I haven't perfected my reach-through-the-computer-and-strap-people-to-chairs-over-vats-of-boiling-sharks-and-also-steal-their-cookies-device. You'll just have to imagine it.
Here's the plan: I am going to turn Erwen into a Mary Sue.
It's genious. Mary Sues turn the other characters into complete idiots, unable to do anything but stare at the Sue in admiration. This way, I won't have to fight anyone but myself, and that should be relatively easy. But I still want you to send me your Balrogs! There's no enemy so easy to defeat that a couple of Balrogs can't make it even easier. If anyone has any leftover orcs, nazgûl, chocolate or mûmakil I would be happy to accept those as well.
You've got to help me! You're a writer too, aren't you? How would you feel if your characters started getting out of your control and decided to attack you? Yes, yes, I know what you will say: I should have been stricter, I shouldn't have given them everything they wanted, I should have disciplined them from the beginning - but believe me, I did it all because I thought it was for the best. And now I'm trying to avoid facing the consequences. Help me! Balrogs!
Ahem. Back to my evil plan. The rest of this chapter will be all about Erwen. Here we go:
From the moment she opened her brilliant blue-grey eyes, Erwen knew that this was going to be a beautiful day. It had rained during the night, and when she opened the window the air had the fresh smell that comes after rain. It was that golden morning hour when the sun balances on the horizon, the birds sing and the air is chilly - but not unpleasantly so - and the sky is like a watercolour painting of pastel colours and the world feels empty but at the same time so incredibly hopeful, and holy run-on sentence, Batman.
Erwen brushed her flowing golden hair in front of the mirror. Even though it has not been previously mentioned in the narrative, there totally was a mirror in her room all along. Because how else would I get to throw in a ridiculously elaborate description of her? So, she was brushing her hair, right, and looking at herself in the mirror, and this is what she saw:
She was about average height, with a body that was slightly more hourglassy than the normal slender elvish one. Her hair was long, wavy and golden as the light of Laurelin. It was definitely her most beautiful feature, and she was secretly proud of it, even though she personally thought dark hair was prettier. Her eyes were blue-grey, and slightly smaller than average; she had long eyelashes, but they were not very visible since they were light brown. Her nose was straight, except for an ever so slight tilt upwards at the end. She had pale skin, nice cheekbones and a stubborn chin. Her mouth was small and pink and... it's a mouth, it's located under her nose and you all know what a mouth looks like! Damn, I'm not very good at this, am I? I didn't use the word 'lavender' once.
Having finished looking at herself in the mirror, Erwen went to the kitchen and made a delicious breakfast. She was just taking the bread out of the oven when Maedhros walked into the kitchen.
"That smells delicious, Erwen," he said, smiling at her.
"How kind of you to say so," said Erwen modestly. "I made sure to make enough for everybody."
"Very considerate of you," said Maedhros. "I am sure my brothers will appear at any moment, attracted by the delicious smell of your delicious bread."
And indeed, just when he said that Amrod and Amras entered the room.
"What is that delicious smell?" said Amrod.
"Erwen made some bread," said Maedhros. "Here, have some. It's delicious."
The three redheads sat down at the table and started gulping down bread and whatever else elves eat for breakfast. Erwen joined them. Suddenly, the door opened and Caranthir stormed in.
"What is it that smells so delicious and why haven't I got any?" he asked.
"Hush now, there's enough for everyone," said Erwen.
Mumbling, Caranthir sat down and stuffed his mouth full of delicious bread. One by one, the other sons of Fëanor dropped in and joined them and the table.
"That was delicious, Erwen," said Maglor when they had finished. (What do you mean, it isn't funny anymore? It was never funny in the first place.)
"Thank you," said Erwen modestly. "Well, if you are all finished I will do the washing up."
"And then I'll give you another swordfighting lesson," said Caranthir.
"If you insist," sighed Erwen.
"Oh, I do," said Caranthir, grinning maliciuosly. "Beating you up is one of the few pleasures I have left."
"Honestly, Carnistir, sometimes you go to far," said Maedhros. "Erwen, you don't have to do it."
"I'll do it," said Erwen, smiling bravely, although she could not hide her distress. Why was Caranthir always picking on her?
Because she deserves it. Yes she does, precious. I thought she was annoying before she was a Sue, but now... yikes. I don't know how long I can keep this up.
Erwen walked slowly and hesitantly towards the open place where they usually practiced swordfighting. Images of her previous so-called lessons with Caranthir flashed through her head. "Too slow!" he announced gleefully as he brought down his blunt sword on her arm, giving her yet another bruise. "Keep your guard up!" he shouted as he slinked past her defenses and stabbed her in the chest, hard enough that she would have died if they had been using real swords. "Or do you want to die in your first battle?" Erwen's eyes filled up with unbidden tears. It was so unfair. He was always complaining, and she had done nothing to deserve it.
"Erwen?" said a voice. She looked up. It was Maedhros. His normally stern eyes were full of concern. "Are you okay?" he said.
"I'm fine," said Erwen, blinking to hold back the tears.
"No. No, you're not," sighed Maedhros. "Erwen, Carnistir is my brother, but even so I have to admit that he's not a nice person. He's always picking on you and you have done nothing to deserve it. I will go and tell him to stop harassing you."
"Oh no, you mustn't!" said Erwen. "I don't want your brother to be angry at you for my sake."
"You are so unselfish," said Maedhros admiringly. "But I still think..."
"No!" said Erwen. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."
"As you wish," said Maedhros reluctantly. "But at least promise me you will let me take a look at you afterwards; I am quite a good healer."
Well, no, he isn't. Hello, New Powers as the Plot Demands. Goodness, how low am I going to sink? Maybe I should just let her kill me before this turns into a Maedhros/Erwen hurt/comfort ship.
"Ready?" said Caranthir, raising his sword.
"One moment," said Erwen weakly. She was starting to wish she had let Maedhros talk to Caranthir instead.
"Try saying that in battle and see how it works out for you," said Caranthir. "Orcs don't wait."
Suddenly Erwen was filled with anger. She could not let it continue like this. She would have to teach Caranthir a lesson. Suddenly she felt strong - no, more than strong - invincible. She was going to beat Caranthir, no matter what.
Woo, God Mode Sue Syndrome! I can't believe I'm writing this. Someone pour me a drink. I feel sick.
"Ready!" said Erwen defiantly. Caranthir did not bother to answer; he just attacked. Erwen jumped out of reach and then swiftly countered. She hit Caranthir's sword and it flew out of his grip, hitting the ground a few feet away with an extremely satisfying clink.
Could this be the worst-written fencing scene ever? Thank goodness it's also the shortest.
"You... you..." said Caranthir, at a loss for words. Erwen smiled and pushed a few golden locks out of her face.
"You underestimated her, Carnistir," said Maedhros, who had turned up for no particular reason except to express his admiration for Erwen. "You were determined to see her as a failure, so you didn't notice her talent. Which, incidentally, is not just limited to fighting. You owe her an apology."
"You're right," said Caranthir. "I'm sorry, Erwen. You deserve my respect."
"Of course I forgive you, Carnistir," said Erwen sweetly. "But you really should stop being so grumpy. People will think you don't care about them, even if you do. For example, when was the last time you gave Maitimo a hug?"
Caranthir frowned.
"When he returned from Angband, maybe," he said. "You're right. Come here, Russandol." He embraced his big brother, who smiled happily. And so Erwen managed to bring the brothers closer instead of causing a rift between them.
"Well, I can see you have lots to talk about," said Erwen, "so if you will excuse me, I'm going to my room."
"You do that," said Maedhros, with a blink that clearly meant ''I'll join you when I've finished talking to Caranthir'.
Erwen stormed into her room, still holding the sword in her hand, and positioned herself in front of the mirror.
Wait, what? There's no need for her to look at herself in the mirror again. What's happening?
"What's happening is that I'm sick and tired of this nonsense," she said, waving her sword menacingly. "Now listen."
I'm not going to listen to you! You're a fictional character! In my story!
"As if you don't spend most of your time talking to people in your head already," said Erwen. "Listen. I know you are desperate, but this is wrong. Just wrong. So stop it."
Why should I? I admit it's painful to write this dravel, but I have to stop you somehow! Nobody's sent me any Balrogs!
"You can't stop me," said Erwen. "But if you stop your disgusting attempts to turn me into a Mary Sue, I will be merciful. I'll give you a clean death."
Nice try, but you should know better. Would you trust me if I gave you that offer? Of course not. You know us. We cheat. Besides, if I'm going to die anyway, I might just as well get tortured first. You know we don't fear pain.
Erwen's eyes narrowed.
"Very well," she said. "Then here's what I'll do. I won't kill you. Instead I will dress up like you and go out there and make a fool of you in as many ways as I possibly can. And then I'll leave you to deal with the concequences."
You wouldn't.
"Yes, I would. You know us. We're not merciful. And what you're doing now is worse than Angband and worse than Helcaraxë and worse than anything you've put me through before. You are meddling with my mind. And the minds of poor Maitimo and Carnistir too."
Okay, okay, I'll stop.
"Good. Now here's what you'll do. You'll end this chapter with me waking up and realizing all this was a dream."
You have to be kidding. That's such an awful device.
"This entire chapter has been awful. Now write it."
Right.
Erwen woke up. It took a few seconds for her to realize where she was, but then she remembered. At Formenos. Right. She looked around her room, and to her great relief she saw that there was no mirror in there. It had been a dream. Just a dream.