Big thank yous to all you lovely readers, and for all the reviews and condolences on the loss of my USB stick. Lest we forget.

By the way, I've started publishing another LotR fic called Farseeing – if you're bored between updates go check it out!

Anonymous review replies

Anthi35: Thank you! Super glad that you're enjoying this. I feel sorry for inflicting Karliah and her ignorance upon Faramir but…well, it's what parodies are about, right? Thanks for reviewing!

Guest: Thank you, I'm really pleased that you like it! Yes, I decided to give the Sues some personality – which is a little different, I think, given that Sues don't usually have personalities. Maybe it's a sign that they're beginning to change? I don't know. Interpret that one however you want! And thank you for the review. :D

OoO

All That Is Old Should Not Glitter

Of course, nobody told Movie Legolas what the sleeping arrangements would be.

With the result that when Book Legolas woke him with a cheerful mae govannen he found a very sore and tired Elf nestled in the cushions on Gimli's floor, groaning in response.

"Did you not sleep well, mellon nin?" he asked, concerned.

"I wish I could say that I did, but at the risk of appearing less grateful than I am I must say no." Movie Legolas looked to be rather in pain as he sat up stiffly and stretched. Legolas was sure he could almost hear the Elf creaking.

"My mind seems to have been elsewhere last night, so I may have to ask you why we are sharing the Dwarf's sleeping quarters again."

"Ah. The explanation is both simple and highly embarrassing." Legolas moved towards the window and threw aside the heavy, richly embroidered curtains. Sunlight streamed into the room. Movie Legolas flinched and hissed. "Some of our guests have not yet learned that it is an ignoble thing to break into an ellon's bedchambers, and some of them have arrived with an inexplicable ability to scale walls."

He paused meaningfully.

Movie Legolas shot him a sceptical look. "Scaling walls?"

"They have the ability to influence our very emotions and stir love where none should be," Legolas pointed out, walking across the room to place a delicately-wrought candleholder back onto its shelf. "They have all sorts of talents that no real teenaged Mortal from a sheltered world would possess. Are you really so surprised that one of them might be to climb the outside wall of a tower and break into one's rooms?"

"And that is why we must sleep in Gimli's quarters, I suppose."

He gave a merry smile. "Precisely why we must sleep in Gimli's quarters. No one has yet attempted to look for me here, and if they did, the first person they would find would be our short, bearded and slightly flatulent friend in there." He gestured vaguely in the direction of the Dwarf's room.

Snorting as he rose to his feet, Movie Legolas replied, "I heard you last night. I do not think that Gimli is the flatulent one."

Legolas could feel heat rising to his cheeks. He turned away. "I have digestive troubles," he mumbled.

"I will say no more about it, then," said Movie Legolas, all politeness except for the mischievous glint in his sky-blue eyes. "Come, let us travel in search of breakfast."

Together, they made their way down several corridors and headed towards a courtyard that they had to cross before arriving at the Hall in which everyone shared the morning meal.

"What will you have me do this morning?" asked Movie Legolas. "Can I be of assistance in any way?"

"I would have you rest, I think," answered Legolas with a smile, "and to try and help the King in whatever way he deems suitable. If our guests saw that there were two of us, I believe that poor Faramir will find himself struggling with the ensuing piles of Love At First Sight and Angst tales."

"You raise a good point."

"Indeed. And at this point—"

Legolas almost slammed into his Movie counterpart, who had frozen stock-still in shock outside the door. He peered over his shoulder.

Before them, the entire courtyard was shimmering beneath a fine film of glitter.

OoO

"Apparently we're going on this camping trip to see what it's really like, and Aragorn—um, King Elessar, won't be there."

Outside the barracks near Legolas' training quarters, Iridianna dejectedly leaned with her elbows over a wall that overlooked one of the lower levels of the city. Around her and Angrenir guards and sleepy OCs milled and yawned and grumbled their way into the morning. Angrenir tossed an apple core over the side and took out a water canteen to wash his hands.

"Why should the King be there? He has many duties of his own to attend to. All kings do."

"Yeah, but he's a Ranger!" She flung an arm out in frustration. "Isn't camping kind of his thing?"

"He was a Ranger. He is High King of the Reunited Realms now. He does enjoy a camping trip every so often, but pressing matters of state will not wait for him to finish traipsing about in the woods." He gave her a quizzical look. "Why should you mind whether or not he attends your trip? There will be much to do and much to enjoy even without the presence of our noble Lord."

"You know why," she mumbled, embarrassed. She reached for her hip pocket for her phone – seemingly for the thousandth time since she had arrived – before remembering that she had no hip pocket and no phone to check. She gave a huff of frustration. Awkward moments were so much more difficult to surmount when there was nothing to fidget with.

That purple fungus of teleportation certainly hadn't told her that she'd need to talk to ordinary people as well as the famous ones from Middle-Earth. And especially not that she'd end up talking to a guard about her Valar-ordained destiny to be with Aragorn forever.

A frown formed on Angrenir's face as he evidently struggled to process the information. "I do know why," he said, "but Iridianna – can you not see that it is wrong? King Elessar and Queen Arwen Undómiel are bound together by the doom of Lúthien and Beren, by a bond that takes them beyond life on these shores and sets them upon the journey of whatever fate awaits we Mortal Men. None may interfere with that. Even were one successful in the attempt, it is beyond my power to know what kind of wrath, what kind of misery, such a thing would invite."

"But Galadriel told me from her visions that I'm the one who's supposed to have that fate." She shook her head. "I'm starting to be less and less convinced that it's true, but—"

Suddenly a fog of glittering pink haze seemed to descend over her sight. Tears of determination welled in her eyes. She was vaguely aware of herself saying, "But we will find a way! True love conquers all." Melodramatically, she clutched at her heart with one hand, the other reaching out towards the sun.

And an explosion of pink and purple glitter rained upon them.

For a moment Angrenir stared at her through the fall, and a slow, sad smile tugged at his lips. "There are times when you almost begin to make sense," he murmured. "Yet for all that, you still know not what love truly is." He shook his head. After a moment he looked down at his arm and frowned at the shimmering pink that dusted it. In puzzlement he rolled some glitter between his thumb and forefinger. "What in the name of Elendil is this?"

"The essence of love and purity," said Iridianna breathily. One corner of her shouted through the pink haze, This isn't right! More and more often of late she found herself splitting into two different people, and somehow being aware of both. One was the Chosen of the Valar, the Tenth Walker, the Companion of the Future King; and this one was sure of herself and her footsteps and her destiny. The other was very teenaged, very confused, frightened, and completely unsure of who or what she was, or whether she was even real. And this other one felt like talking to Angrenir seemed to be one of the only things that really brought her out.

"Well, I think that I have had enough love and purity for one day," declared Angrenir in what sounded like resignation. He dusted off the helmet tucked beneath his arm and gave up when the effort to remove the glitter proved too difficult. "When is this camping trip to occur?"

"Tomorrow, at dawn, upon the Day of Destiny," answered the Chosen One side of Iridianna wisely. Her Less Chosen side cringed at the choice of words, and at the idea of being up at such an unholy hour.

"Alright. If I do not see you before then, I wish you all the best of luck." He paused for a moment, opening his mouth as if he were going to say something else, then shook his head. "Fare you well for now."

"Until the Valar should bring us together," she answered as he turned to hasten to his duties.

Iridianna watched him go before she let a beam of light shine upon her and posed a few times while further up the wall a handsome male OC with glossy brown hair did the same. He stopped, very suddenly, a confused look on his face, before wandering off.

The pink haze over her vision lifted with a suddenness that left her reeling. All thoughts of destiny and Aragorn and saving Middle-Earth took flight. Shakily, she raised a hand to her face and found that her skin tone was not as even – something that seemed to be happening more and more every time she switched personalities. Steadying herself against the wall, she gripped the white stone, breathing hard.

"What is this?" she whispered.

OoO

"What is this?" demanded Éomer, storming past her and bursting into the practice area. Glitter flew and swirled about his feet as he crossed the compact dirt of the yard. "Legolas, know you what this stuff is?"

"Glitter, of course!" Legolas happily threw a handful into the air.

"Will you stop that, Thranduillion?" sighed Éomer, waving a hand to try and clear the shower of pink away. "Even now, several Haradric officials sit in the Council Hall wearing looks of varying revulsion and amusement, as well as this terribly-coloured dust. Have you not seen Aragorn's face this morning? I see no reason to keep throwing it around. I—no!" He flapped his arm and scared away a singing bluebird who was trying to use his shoulder as a perch. "What is this?!"

"What you do not know, Éomer-King, is that this is a good sign indeed." Unperturbed, Legolas reached out and yanked a squealing young lady with natural green highlights out of the crowd. "Riannabelle here is beginning to make sense." His fair Elven face near glowed with excitement. "Observe you this. How fares the morning, Riannabelle?"

The girl in question stared at him, startled, before stammering an answer. "Uh—it's—it's good, but I'm really sore."

"And why is that?"

"Um… because fencing all day is really hard? Especially when you're a schoolkid who doesn't even know how to fence?" Her shoulders slumped tiredly. "To be honest, I'm completely knackered."

Legolas turned to Éomer with shining eyes. "See? There is logic right here. Not three days ago Riannabelle would have confidently believed that she could swing a sword about all day and hardly break a sweat. And now look at her!"

A couple of pimples that were on Riannabelle's left temple suddenly disappeared and a faraway look appeared in her eyes. Her features became subtly more beautiful, her eyes more exotically shaped. She suddenly saw who was standing next to her and she blushed becomingly. Pearls and sparkles bloomed like flowers around her. "Oh, Lord Legolas," she breathed, "I—"

"Off you go, Riannabelle!" said Legolas hurriedly, steering her in the direction of the wooden staves that Éowyn would train them with in a few minutes.

"I remain unconvinced," said Éomer flatly. "This does not explain the glitter."

"Did you see how the girl appeared to have two different personalities? Two different appearances?"

"Aye, and it was among the most disturbing things I have ever seen, and I have faced Orcs uglier than the dead."

"Set aside your morbid comparisons for a moment and listen," implored Legolas. He made an expansive gesture. "When you look at these young men and women, you see perfection, glory, peerless beauty. You have heard about their tragic backgrounds, written to invoke sympathy from their love interests and new friends, when a good love or friendship should not be based upon pity. You see traits that in the real world would label them as annoying and which in their stories have been written as charming or amusing. You see them being needlessly hated or inexplicably loved for things which to our eyes appear rather small. Or just plain odd."

Éomer nodded, long blond hair shedding bits of glitter. "You mean jealousy over their beauty, or love for the wisdom shining in their multi-coloured eyes."

"Precisely. What you see, despite the lengthy descriptions and interesting appearances, is a complete lack of personality. All of this – it is an expression of a substanceless personality being released as energy in the form of glitter. Our friend Movie Legolas explained that he has experienced it several times before," he added.

"So what you are saying is that they are slowly changing, and this glitter is simply a by-product?"

"Yes! As the dried blood of a wound is the sign that healing has begun to take place, so is today's unusually shimmery landscape."

"It is still a little sad to see this mighty, ancient city being debased by such gaudiness, though," said Éomer, glancing around. "These hallowed stones should not lie beneath a cloud of…Mary Sue discharge."

"I would not fret too much if I were you, mellon," answered Legolas, clapping the King of Rohan on the shoulder as they left the yard. "Those clouds gathering upon the horizon are dark with the promise of rain. The stones will wash away the residue in no time. And," he added, grinning happily, "it will make the ground quite slushy - just in time for tomorrow's Camping In The Wild training."

Apologies that this chapter was slightly late, and a little short – again, I blame the big USB stick debacle! Thank you for reading, and if you have time to drop me a review, it definitely won't go unappreciated. :)