What SHOULD Happen to All Mary Sues
(Elrond Schmelrond)
"Where do you think you are going?" asked Aragorn eyeing Krystyl with distaste.
"I'm coming with you to Rivendell, duh?" she said in her snottiest teenager tone.
"Look, I've already shaken three of you girls off our trail. Can you not take a hint? One of them hurled herself at Frodo right as he put on the ring to go invisible. She knocked him right into the Witch King. That's how he got stabbed. And the other two flung themselves at me. I dodged of course and she went hurdling off the edge of Weathertop…made a bit of a mess, I can tell you. Honestly, you'd think Merry and Pippin would be easier targets. I mean really, you people are more persistent than those damned Nazgûl," he growled back.
"I'm different though…"
"More irritating…" grumbled Aragorn under his breath.
"Didn't you hear me? I'm Kristiana, Elf Maiden Warrior Princess," Krystyl said proudly, her voice like the music of the River Nimrodel—which isn't very musical at all when you come to think about it. How many musical rivers have YOU ever met? Anyway, Aragorn cringed.
"Yes? The first three were…what were they Merry? Pip?"
"Arrogant, dangerously stupid, twits?" Merry offered. Aragorn snorted a derisive laugh. Krystyl ignored him. Obviously jealous of my beauty. I will gaze at them with my *quests for synonym* azure eyes so that they know how I pity them in their severe need for a makeover. I'll help them shave their feet when we get to Rivendell…
"What were their names?" the ranger clarified.
"Oh," said the hobbit flatly. "The one that tackled Frodo called herself Ellysia, Princess of the Starlight Wood…"
"And the other two were Soren, Elf Maiden of the Galadrim—riiiight, she wasn't THAT much taller than me and she didn't have pointy ears or that ethereal light—and Andariel, Ranger of the Northlands—which I think she made up because she was barely out of diapers and Strider here didn't know her," finished Pippin.
"They all ignored us too," said Merry pointedly.
"Why is she looking at us like that?" Pippin whispered to Merry, not taking his eyes off the leering fangirl. "You don't think these creatures eat hobbits do you?" Merry shrugged.
"I dunno. I hope not. What's wrong with her hair?" Merry whispered back loudly enough that she should have been able to hear it had she not been ignoring them so hard.
"I do hope Master Frodo will be alright," said Sam (who the author got carried away being a bitch and forgot entirely until this very moment).
Several days—days? It took thirty seconds in the movie! How ever will I survive with no Twinkies or potato chips? No TV? Without seeing my darling Legolas?—later, they arrived at the house of Elrond. Of course, while none of them had bathed in days, Krystyl's stagnant body odor was that of honeysuckle and fresh linen because, as they saying goes, *comical southern drawl* she thinks her shit don't stink.
Elrond himself greeted Aragorn at the gates. Oh, Elrond schmelrond! HE'S not cute! C'mon…greetings…need a shave…yadda yadda yadda…the rest of the pudgy ones…blahdy blahdy blah…shadow descending…Frodo OK…all this I know, let's GO!—her brain babbled over the introductions. At last, her cornflower orbs found something worthwhile to gaze hypnotically at. Legolas, it seemed was near the front of this geeky, dress wearing, not blonde elf's *asks Merriam* entourage.
As soon as Elrond hushed and the crowd began to disperse, Krystyl sauntered toward—my darling, Leggy-poo—making sure that her blackish, chestnut-auburn hair with its trailer trash variety of blonde "highlights", cascaded tastefully over her Pamela Anderson-esque boobs. OK. Suave-intelligent-sexy-adult, suave-intelligent-sexy-adult, that's me…I am a suave-intelligent-sexy adult. He knows he wants me. I can see it in his eyes.
Glorfindel regarded the rather short, garishly clad gnome before him incredulously. He recognized her from the Ford. Ha! He's hypnotized by my irresistible beauty and charm! I KNEW he wasn't gay! Glorfindel opened his mouth to tell the girl, in short, to sod off, but he was not given the opportunity. Krystyl pressed her long, delicate, slender finger to his lips. Then, she spoke, her voice the gentle purr of a soft evening breeze through autumn leaves,
"Hush now. Tis my pleasure you meet you at long last, my most handsome prince of Mirkwood. Whither wilt thou lead me that we mayest speak together in private, for there is much that I would say, and many tokens of your love that you wish to bestow upon me," she finished. She reached up (imagine, for a moment, a 5'6", teenage girl trying to put the chop on a six and a half foot tall, 5000 year old elf) and stroked his blonde tresses, their texture like the yellow corn silk of the fall harvest beneath her dainty digits.
"I beg your pardon?" said Glorfindel, his scowl deepening.
"Tis I, Kristiana, Elf Maiden Warrior Princess! What concern thus twists thy fair brow? Tis I, of whom the prophecy bespoke."
"What prophecy and why are you talking that way?"
"Why, the prophecy that you would wander the green paths of thy home, Mirkwood, 'til thou chanced to meet one young and fair. One not of your world, but princess of a distant and enchanting land, you would meet. Tis scrawled in the stars that none but she shall content you—none but she shall quiet your craving to cross the sea," Krystyl rambled on. She didn't understand why Legolas wasn't buying it. It was so easy in all the fics she'd read. There was always a secret prophecy that only he knew about.
"Oh. Oh! THAT prophecy. You'll be wanting Legolas, not me," Glorfindel said, and turned to go.
"WHAT?!" she screeched. "Who the hell are YOU then?!" The blonde elf stuck his finger in his ear to make sure it wasn't bleeding.
"Glorfindel is my name, and if you'd bothered to start from the beginning rather than at the Council of Elrond, when he shows up, you'd know that. And I suppose you think that Asfaloth is Arwen's horse?," he said, his voice beginning to grow louder.
"Well, actually, I thought that he was Leggy's…"
"He's not! He's MY horse—not Arwen's, not Leggy's, MINE!" he bellowed, and stalked off.
----------------------------------------
AN: Alright! Now that we've got THAT straightened out…what will happen when she meets the REAL "Leggy"? Will he be everything she hoped and imagined? Will he fall helplessly in love with her like he's SUPPOSED to? *snort* Fat chance…:D ~DR