*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
Chapter 7 Attack of the Smutwriters
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
Part 36 (in which Autumn volunteers to put Elrond to bed)
Autumn
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
Autumn watches Nemis and the King go outside for a little quiet time before turning back and watching Fëanor remove his trousers as a blush creeps across his entire body and Kelsey smiles happily.
"I cannot believe his greed for the Silmarils has driven him to such disgrace hick." She looks to her side to see Elrond swirling the wine in his glass.
"well, he does have a nice bu-...that's not important but you look a little worn there elfy." It was true, Elrond looked as though the wine was getting the better of him. "C'mon Elrond, we need you looking and acting spiffy in the morn so you can help Gil kick the crap out of orcs." With little resistance from Elrond, she drags him from his chair and leads him out the door as, judging from the screams coming from inside the tent, Fëanor lost another article of clothing.
While walking the Elven Lord back to his tent, the thought of taking advantage of him does cross Autumn's mind....Next on Jerry Springer: I'm having an elven Lord's love child!*whack!* she is knocked from her state by chibi duo and his scyth and she sighs, knowing full well she shouldn't and couldn't...could she?*whack!* nope, thought not.
So, Autumn gets Elrond into his tent, sheds his clothes:), gets him into some cute little jammies that have little golden rings on them and tucks him into bed.
Stepping out of the tent, the thought of whipping out her katana and finding the one who bears a creepy resemblance to Ilúvatar Nemis and slicing her to little dark Nemis pieces surfaces. Never being able to ignore her violent impulses, Autumn goes off but comes across a sight she was not meant to see. Gil-galad and the above mentioned Ilúvatar were about to do something never before written about and, seeing as Autumn wasn't about to attempt to, she crept by silently waving a little purple flag that said 'Go Nemis' on it and went to find dark Nemis.
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
Part 37 (in which Fëanor loses all…)
Kelsey
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
"Take it off!"
"I don't want to!!"
"Those are the rules and you have to play by the rules."
"Fine! There are you happy?" Hesitantly and with very red cheeks (of his face people, try and stay focused) Fëanor sheds his remaining undergarments (I'll leave it to your imagination if he is a boxer or brief Elf.)
"Now that I am thoroughly humiliated I would appreciate the return of my garments." Kelsey is holding them some distance away and Eómer (who may or may not have still been in the tent) gazes on with morbid fascination.
"Sorry but rule #3,467 says you must stay ahem unclothed until the victor, in this case me, decides to return them." She freezes as the distant sound of tramping feet could be heard through the open flap of the tent. Fëanor, his Silmarils now forgotten, dives behind the table, shielding himself from any eyes.
"WHAT is that?!" he cries.
"I'd know that sound anywhere," Kelsey replies, her eyes losing their mirth and growing dark, "its a stampede. Quick, put your clothes on see if that helps."
"A stampede of orcs?" Fëanor sobs hopping on one foot and pulling
his trousers up.
"Of smut authors. You have no idea what we have unleashed."
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
Part 38 (in which Katy saves Erestor, and Fëanor proves he'll always be a pain)
Katy
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
Katy meanwhile is sitting in the UCMEC really big tent with an edition of 'Middle Earth Magic stuff for Valar Dummies' on her lap. Trying to figure out someway to send back a). Fozzie Bear and b). Dark Nemis to somewhere else from where they are... preferably the gap between dimensions or the everlasting empty void where Morgoth is (although on second thoughts putting Morgoth and Dark Nemis together, nevermind Sauron and Dark Nemis, might just be a little too much for the rest of the universe to handle) for one thing, she's sick of being chased by that sorry excuse for a man. Another would be that she doesn't want to spend the rest of her life as a slave in the regions near Nurn (South Mordor) with the knowledge that Dark Nemis is currently in possession of HER action figures.
Snapping her fingers, a notepad and pen appears (the dummies book can teach you that...at least in Middle Earth anyway ^_^) And Katy begins to brainstorm ideas for how to get rid of the unwelcome ones to Middle Earth. Mini Ereinion climbs outta the bag and begins chasing her pen while the Elrond begins to protest that he's hungry...
There is a soft noise at the door and Katy looks up to see Erestor there, bearing a silver tray. "My lady." He smiles.
"Lord Erestor." She replies, hoping he can't see her blushing. "What brings you here?"
"I brought you some...refreshments before you prepare to rest." He replied, "Berry wine...less potent than that at the meal tonight."
There are the sounds of cries coming from the camp. "What..." Katy starts but is cut off by Kelsey and Fëanor arriving in the tent.
"Stampede!" Kelsey gasps "Slash writers...coming this way! Quick!"
Erestor impulsively (hee hee hee) grabs Katy, who grabs a blanket (as it will be cold out there) and follows the EX High King of the Noldor and Kelsey out the tent.
Their breaths come out white in the cold. "So now what happens?" Demands Katy.
The sounds of the slash writers becomes louder and the panic on both Elf's faces increases...the powers of the slash writers (if they find Feeny and Erestor I think you can guess what will happen).
"Right! You take attitude problem here and I'll take this one."
Katy nods at Kelsey's suggestion and seizing Fëanor's half buttoned up tunic drags him in the opposite direction from the way Kelsey and Erestor have headed.
"He's mine though!" Katy's voice drifts back to Kelsey, who grins 'whatever...'
Katy and Fëanor finally stop running through the veritable maze of tents. Fëanor begins to tie/button/buckle what he didn't have time to before and Katy fights to catch her breath.
"Was that REALLY necessary?" Fëanor demands, regaining dignity, bad temper and sharp tongue.
"Yes actually." Katy replies mildly "Unless you wanted to find yourself in a most uncompromising position with Erestor back there..."
"And how?" He replies.
"Never doubt the power of the imagination...especially the sort of imagination those people have." Katy indicates the direction the slash writers are and shudders at the thought of the Elrond/Uruk Hai fic Nemis once told her of. She wraps the blanket round her tighter. "Are you properly clothed again?"
"And what would it matter to you?"
"Sorry for my concern, oh Highest of the Arrogant. I don't wish to freeze to death here, I'm just making sure I don't have to give you my blanket." Katy snaps back, shivering.
"You should have worn warmer garments."
"I would have if I hadn't been preparing to SLEEP when you happened to burst in...at least I *KNOW* how to play strip polka properly."
"That would hardly surprise me."
"Are you calling me a slattern?" Katy demands, gripping Fëanor by the collar even though he's a good foot higher than she.
"I don't feel disposed to answer that." Fëanor replies.
"FINE! HAVE IT YOUR WAY. I'LL JUST LEAVE YOU HERE TO GET FOUND BY THEM AND IT'LL SERVE YOU RIGHT WHEN YOU FIND YOURSELF IN BED WITH RING BOY!" And with that Katy stomps off in the other direction, leaving Fëanor all alone.
Kelsey meanwhile is trying to look for her small collection of Elven Soldiers with Erestor, meaning to add him to the collection. It is at this moment that she comes upon Harle and Haldir.
"What the hells going on?" Demands Harle. "Like the noise for a start?"
"That would be the stampede of slash writers..." Kelsey trails off, ogling Haldir. Harle notices this and waves her hand in front of Kelsey's enraptured eyes, hissing "Mine!" Under her breath.
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
Part 39 (in which the Samurai Manages to Get a Little Loving of Her Own – NOT!!) (or: The Power of Smut Writers)
Harle
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
Harle glares at Kelsey, her mouth set in a firm pout. "Leave him alone, Kelsey," she mutters. "This Elf is MINE! When the time comes I'm gonna have my name tattooed on his derriere, and once I do that there's nothing more you can do about it. You've got your own collection, can't I have at least ONE?!"
Kelsey sighs, and shrugs. "Oh well, it was worth a try." She starts moving away from the two, Erestor in tow. "Oh yeah, and you might want to keep any two examples of the male species – whether Elf or Man – at a maximum distance apart."
Harle wiggles her eyebrows. "Why?"
Kelsey smiles wanly. "Never underestimate the powers of the slash writers, my dear. Especially where it concerns HIM and Celeborn." Here she casts a glance at Haldir, and after that, runs off in another direction.
Harle shivers, and sighs. "This is not good, not good at all." She looks up at Haldir, and says, "Hey, you're coming with me for the meantime."
Haldir raises an eyebrow again, and Harle nearly swoons at the sight. 'Why is it that he has to look so damn GOOD when he acts so high and mighty?!'
"And where are we going, Lady?" asks the Elven archer.
Harle shakes herself out of her stupor, and straightens up. "We're going to our Really Big Tent. I think we'd be reasonably safe there, particularly where certain slash writers are concerned. You and a girl being together won't call their attention."
"If I may ask, Lady, what is so troubling about these…slash writers?" Haldir asks as he follows behind her as they make their way to the UCMECians' Really Big Tent. "And what did Lady Kelsey mean with that statement about myself and Lord Celeborn?"
Harle groans as she pushes back the flap, and enters the tent, which is considerably warmer than outside. "Don't even ASK about that, PLEASE! For the sake of my sanity, but most especially for yours." She turns to Haldir, and says, "Sit down for a minute; I'm going to change out of these clothes, and after I do, we're going to look for Nemis. BLEEP, but this is a BLEEPING emergency! She HAS to know, and soon!"
Haldir's eyes widen when she mentions that she is going to change out of her clothes. "If that is the case, should I not wait outside…?"
Harle shakes her head firmly. "No. You're staying put right here, where I can watch over you. If those slash writers get to you, I wouldn't want to think of the consequences." She shudders at the thought as she steps behind a changing screen that was placed in the tent by some kind and gracious Elf for their benefit. Her senses pick up the sounds of giggling from just outside her tent, and she smirks. 'Sorry people, Haldir isn't with Celeborn or Legolas or any other male Elf you pair him up with! He's with MOI, a perfectly okay (though rather insane) example of the female species!'
Harle then slides off her wet cloak and overshirt, and hangs them on the edge of the changing screen. She does the same with her trousers, revealing the soft cotton shorts she always wears beneath them. She is now left wearing the breastplate-like thing, her undershirt, and the cotton shorts.
She reaches behind, and attempts to undo the laces of the breastplate, but they're stuck. No matter how hard she tugs, the knots won't come undone.
"Ah BLEEP!" Harle growls as she tugs again. "The cold and the rainwater must've swollen the knots!"
At that precise moment, a pair of strong hands with slender fingers comes in contact with her own, and she feels her hands being pushed away from the back of her breastplate. "Allow me, Lady."
Harle stiffens the moment she hears that voice. 'Could it be…nah!' She laughs nervously as she feels Haldir deftly untie the knots, and the breastplate loosens its grip around her torso. "Heheh, thanks Haldir. Now could you leave and give me a little privacy so I can change?"
His hands fly from her back to her waist, and he turns her around sharply, releasing a loud squeal from her end. "Haldir!"
He smiled down at her wolfishly, his blue eyes molten. "I cannot believe I did not notice how beautiful you are until recently… What have I been thinking?" He leans forward to her, and kisses her square on the lips.
Harle feels her knees starting to give way beneath her, and she is tempted to give in, but then, a thought occurs to her. 'Wait a minute…I didn't want this to happen! Well, I did, but…not like this!' She breaks away from Haldir, and lifts up the edge of the tent. A thousand glimmering eyes greet her, with mouths slightly parted, some with drool hanging from them. Her eyes widen, and a vein starts throbbing in her forehead. And when THAT happens, anyone would do his best to stay clear from her.
"GET OUT OF MY BLEEPING SIGHT BEFORE I DECIDE TO KILL YOU ALL!!!" Harle screams, and her voice carries all over the battlefield and even to Orodruin. The smut writers who have gathered yelp and yip, and scramble away to the safety of their lairs.
"What has happened, Lady?!" Haldir's voice is severely alarmed, especially when he realizes that he's no longer sitting, and is instead standing behind the changing screen with a partially clothed Harle.
Harle shakes her head. "BLEEP! They're here!" With that she puts on a fresh pair of trousers, a dry breastplate, overshirt, and cloak. She pushes Haldir out the changing screen, and out the tent, grabbing a spare naginata on the way out. 'UCMEC HAS to know about this!'
"What is going on here, Lady?! And why was I standing behind the changing screen while you were…in a partial state of undress," at the mention of that, Haldir's pale cheeks flame to an interesting shade of red, "and what is this emergency you speak of?"
But Harle ignores him. She stomps over to Gil-galad's Really Big Tent, where she is sure the rest of UCMEC would be, and announces, "People, we have a problem."
Casey looks up from Glorfindel. "Why, what's up?"
Harle takes a deep breath, and says slowly, "The smut writers have attacked. And I think Dark Nemis is the one who is sending them here to our side."
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
Part 40 (in which Casey decides to go for it…)
Casey
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
Casey, Joan, Glorfindel and Eómer look at her (being the only ones left in the ReallyBigTent) (since Autumn is looking for Dark Nemis, Kelsey is enlisting Erestor, Katy is wandering the camp, and Alena went after Nemis and good old Gil yes, Nemis, *old*, and Nemis, well, we all know where she is though no one dares to write about her now g)
Harle looks at Casey, who is very close to tiring Glorfindel out and getting the truth on the table, and (basically) isn't very worried about slash/smut writers.
'Where is Nemis, anyway?'
'Snogging Gil-galad, last I checked,' says Alena, re-entering the tent, after having followed the High-king and Nemis, until she decided to give them a little privacy (how much privacy can you have in an army camp as leader of the Elves g).
Casey smiles (already glad Nemis is putting her energy in something interesting, while *she* is doing something half the Tolkien community probably will never forgive her). She notices Haldir, and for the first time in her life doesn't have any interest whatsoever in an Elf. (sorry about that, too low in rank, Celeborn can have 'm, or Harle, in this case)
'What is he doing here?'
Harle begins to explain.
'Well, I was changing, when…'
well, there goes
Somehow, the entire smut-writers attack has gone by Gil and Nemis, who are drowning in each other's eyes (a deep grey and a pale blue), after sharing a very amorous kiss (who can blame Gil, if she doesn't succeed in saving his life, he's gonna be dead in the morning anyway).
Realising they can't just stand there the entire Last Alliance (well, they could, but not in my part of this fic), the High-king smiles.
'I suppose we need a plan, and your friends don't seem very… helpful.'
Nemis smiles forgivingly.
'You seem to forget this is a humour/parody fic.'
Gil raises and eyebrow.
'Still, you might better tell me what I need to know.'
Nemis nods, turning serious.
'At a certain moment, Evil-Fire-Bre… ok, well Gorthaur, comes forth, and he is supposed to wrestle with you and Ring-boy's father, and you both die. Actually, I think you die even before Ring-boy's fa…'
'Elendil…' Gil-galad interrupts, and he watches Nemis cower. 'No?'
'Could you please not say that?'
'It's his name…'
Nemis sighs.
'I know it is… But it's the only thing I ask of you. Please?'
Gil-galad nods, even though he doesn't really understand.
'So, I die, you spoke of this. And?'
'Well, somehow, Gorthaur gets thrown down, and because Ring-boy cuts the one Ring from his finger, he's defeated. Then we get Círdan and Elrond running him up Orodruin to throw in the Ring and Ring-boy refuses.'
'So that's why you call Isi-…' He looks at Nemis, 'That's why you call him like that… But he can't refuse to cast it in, it's the reason we're here, for Elbereth's sake!'
Nemis nods, glad Gil-galad understands the gravity of the situation. g
'I know. Now do you understand why I don't like him? You die for nothing, and stuff.'
'Stuff…' Gil-galad smiles, catching Nemis' hand. 'Let us return and see if Fëanor has won his Silmarils yet.'
'Do not speak of the Silmarils.' Comes a growl from behind, and Nemis and Gil-galad turn to find Fëanor nearing.
'I've been promised those several times now, and the only thing that happens is me losing clothing and getting chased by those smut-writers.'
Nemis and Gil-galad look at each other. They speak at the same time.
(aaw, look, they got a mental connection)
'Smut-writers?!'
Both leave Fëanor where he is, and take a sprint back to the ReallyBigtent.
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
Part 41 (in which it seems time to get a little bit mean)
Alena
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
Alena feels a cold shiver ran down her spine. With a metallic clang, she pulls out her sword, for the n-th time of the night. Suddenly a screech goes up in the distance: "Elf-lords! Lots of them! Everyone gets one after we take the field!" A roar follows, then the thunder of stampeding feet. Rapidly the sound becomes closer. Louder. Inside the tent, things are suddenly very quiet.
"They're regrouping. Coming again." Joan's voice is low and grim, speaking the thoughts of all.
Katy's eyes narrow in determination. "Remember, we are the Valar! We are the UCMEC!"
"C'mon! What are we waiting for?" Harle yelled, her weapon drawn.
Bellowing as one, the UCMECians bursts out of the tent. Unfortunately, Harle, who was in the vanguard, collides with Gil-galad at the door, who, along with Nemis, has just made the mad dash back, barely ahead of the oncoming tide. Both sprawl onto the ground. The first wave of the smut/slash writers, now only a few yards away, gives a shout of glee. Without missing a beat, Nemis spins around, facing the onslaught, and lashes out with her Ilúvatar powers, sending two smut writers and a slasher flying. But it was only a leaf in the forest.
Checked for only a moment, they again rush forward.
"THE UCMEC!!!" With a battle cry, Alena vaults over the heads of Harle and Gil-galad, somersaulting twice in mid-air, and lands with a wobble onto the head of a slash writer. With a downward swipe of the sword, she sends a Haldir-smutter onto the ground, and bounces off the head of the slasher with a kick, shrieking wildly. Harle scrambles to her feet, and tears into a knot of assailants, naginata flashing. The UCMECians charge forward behind her.
"Casey! Protect Glorfindel! And someone keep an eye on Erestor! My Lord Gil-galad--" Nemis goes into leadership mode, while holding back a spear-head battalion of attackers with her superpowers. Two Ringboy-slashers sneak up behind her, but at that exact moment, Katy skids out of nowhere, knocking the feet from beneath the pair. To her own detriment, she did not stop there, but keeps on sliding, right into Joan. Immediately, a platoon of smut-writers descend upon them.
In an instant, with an ear-splitting "Yieeeee!", Alena spins into the air and lands in the middle of the melee, despatching the nearest enemy, all the while screeching at a nearly ultrasonic pitch.
Dark Nemis clearly hasn't told the slash/smut writers about the UCMECians, or at least severely under-represented their prowess. With another roar, they retreat, disappearing almost as quickly as they came. "We'll be back!" A smut-captain shouted, for a parting shot.
Katy looks at Alena unbelievingly. "So how come you're such a kung-fu chick all the sudden? The last time I looked, you were tripping all over your own feet!"
Alena smiled vaguely. "'Tis elementary, my dear Katy, haven't you been recently to a movie? Kung-fu chicks all Easterling females be!"
The UCMECians look at each other, and try to assess the damages, mental or otherwise, to their Elf-lords. Seeing that Gil-galad is alright, Nemis takes a step towards him, her eyes flooding with relief.
"Oh, no...Where's Elrond?" a voice suddenly asks.
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^
duh-duh-duh
Where is Elrond? Wanna know? Press the little button over there…