Nemis and UCMEC go last Alliance…
(or: The Saving of Gil-galad)
By:

Nemis (Royal Worshipper to Little Ereinion)

Katy (also Fiona Rayne, and Keeper of Gollum's Baby Teeth and The Archenemy of Pop-up Ads)

Casey (Slave to Any Elf-lord That Will Have Her)

Joan Milligan (Keeper of Melkor's Green Underwear and Legolas' True Haircolor)

Kelsey (inventor of the perfect description of this fic: "Mary Sueish yet seductive fanfic authors portrayed by themselves. Un-effeminate and irresistible Eves portrayed by members of the Last Alliance. Of course sans Legolas."

Alena (Psychopomp and Hierophantess of the Easterling Lodge of the Golden Shovel of Imladris)

Autumn (also ShinElrond, Creator of the Different Story)

Harle (also Lady Harlequin, Self-proclaimed Samurai in the Service of Lord Gil-galad, Lord Elrond and UCMEC)

First things first... Who are we?

Well, we are the members of the Unofficial Committee for More Elrond and Celebrían fanfiction…

But, as you will discover, we are also the somewhat crazier people that inhabit fanfiction.net…

Most of us have an account on this site somewhere, so check us out!

Anyway, I am Nemis, the 'leader' of the pack, and general e-mail checker and chapter up-loader (did I get lured into this somehow, it suddenly doesn't seem that good anymore… hmm).

Fiona/Katy is the fastest writer to get back on my set-up, so she gets to see her name right after mine grin

Casey is second-best in more ways than one

Joan is our Silmfic leader and general mayhem causer

Kelsey is looking for Elfies

Alena knows Nerdanel really well…

Autumn writes the sweetest ficcies about Elrond and/or Celebrían on ff.net

(I trust they will inform me if they want their bios updated)

How did this start? Well with this:

Question: What would happen if a fan-ficcer, temporarily insane, would decide to write herself into the Last Alliance to try and make things go her way? And then invite the members of her mailing-list to join?

Answer: Sacrilege, Mary-Sue and trouble, right? grin I know...

Disclaimer: Nothing here is ours, except for the silliness…

Note: Totally AU. This is meant as something to amuse (namely us), so if we insult anybody in the process, like, Peter Jackson, slash-writers, Mary-Sues, and, oh yeah, blond Elves, we are really just pulling your… leg… Hmm… Foot in mouth syndrome…

The scene is (as said) the Last Alliance, some days before the Fall of Gil-galad and the other guy (yes, I know his name, he's the father of Ring-boy, and no, I am aware of the fact he isn't Ring-boy yet, but I'm the first writer and I don't want to name Elendil darn)

Oh, well, he got screwed by Peter Jackson anyway, so this won't matter…

I doubt any of you think I was going to wait seven years, when I can just beam myself (and the others) into this, days before the really important stuff is going to happen?

I think not, you are an intelligent audience…

So there goes:

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Chapter One In Which the Plot Thickens...

Nemis

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A lightning beam pierces through the clear sky, not a cloud in sight, and with it, something falls from the sky.

thud

Nemis, having landed face-down in the yucky-stuff Mordor is made of, now covered in it, mutters a very un-Middle-earthy curse under her breath.

'What the bloody censored did I think of? There has to be a better way to enter the story… For Elbereth's sake…'

Scrambling to her feet, she tries to brush away the dirt, but, since it is black yucky-mud, only makes it worse. Shrugging, she imagines herself a new pair of trousers (which look really great) (hey, it's my part of the fic) and a warm coat, since she severely underestimated the weather.

The plain before her is littered with tents and flags, and somewhere in the background, a huge volcano-like mountain is fuming it's dark smoke.

'I wonder if Sauron has ever read Freud.' She smirks, making her way to the tents further ahead.

'Now, I guess we have to have a blue and silver banner.'

Not watching her feet, she trips, almost breaking her neck, over a row of slash-fic writers that seem to be lurking at the borders of the encampment.

With an evil glare she, once again, gets on her feet, and tries to imagine them away, but it doesn't seem to work. At least they are not following, which is kind of nice.

It isn't really hard to find what she is looking for, since its by far the biggest and most luxurious tent around. Waving at Glorfindel, who suddenly is grinning like some fool, she enters the pavilion of blue and silver.

Inside, two figures are bent over a table filled with maps, thankfully not yet influenced enough by the ficcers on edge of the camp to be involving themselves in anything that would require NC-17 rating.

Nemis finds herself eye to eye with two of the coolest Elves ever, which both seem extremely amazed to see her.

Both dark-haired, though only one has been confirmed to have that hair-colour, one looks unmistakably like… I can't say who, because that wouldn't be nice… (Agent Elrond giggle) Let's just say he looks yummy… The other one has been slightly reshaped in her imagination to fit Nemis's liking and is taller and cooler and… is the High-king of the Noldor.

He is the first to recover his ability to speak.

'And what are you?'

Nemis is right about to return I'm Batman when the other Elf roles his eyes.

'She's the one who hit you with that arrow, a couple of centuries ago.'

Nemis gives him a glare, realising she has sorely underestimated the ability of the Lord of Imladris to make sarcastic remarks. And his powers of grasping fan-fic… She turns to Gil-galad.

'What he meant to say; I am the one that gave you a life.' She looks at Elrond, who folds his arms and returns the stare.

'Whatever.'

Nemis raises a finger.

'Don't you start, Elf-boy, or I will make you suffer like there is no tomorrow.'

Elrond, meanwhile, doesn't seem very impressed.

Nemis decides to ignore him, and turns to Gil-galad again.

'Look, Mr Ereinion, sir,' Gil-galad's eyes begin to glimmer and Nemis almost jumps right into his arms, but regains her composure just in time. 'I really like you, you see, but the trouble is, you are supposed to die in a couple of days, which is going to make you miss Elf-boy's wedding,' She ignores Elrond's coughing fit, continuing, '…and give him a traumatic experience… Well, maybe I did that… But, anyway, I'm here to make sure you don't die, and live happily ever after.'

Gil-galad seems amused, really, sort of the opposite to Elrond, who has turned very pale all of a sudden. Likely just realising the power of the fanfiction author.

'You are here to make sure I don't die?'

Nemis nods emphatically.

'That's the idea.'

Gil-galad frowns.

'Just you?'

Nemis grins evilly.

'I might have some friends who want to help…'

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To be continued…

(Be afraid, be very afraid)