Slight Warning: If you love Legolas, slash, Tolkien, Peter Jackson's movie, original Mary-Sues, a crystal-clear plot, and have little humour, this fic is not for you… g Just don't say we didn't warn ya! Read on at your own risk… bwahaha
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Chapter 8 The Kidnapping… (omg! OMG!)
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Part 42 (in which we use the fact that there are more desired subjects for slashing in our advantage)
Autumn
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Autumn takes down a few slashers and smut writers but she's can only take down so many. Thankfully, though, the rest of the UCMEC is beating them down too and eventually, the bad writers retreat, the very last of which are speeded up by Chibi duo whacking them with his scythe. She smirks at the UCMECians, feeling all proud of their ass kicking abilities until someone asks where Elrond is. Her eyes get wide and she runs in a panic to Elrond's tent.
Before she or any of the others can get there though, Elrond is carried off by the bad writers and a deafening cry is let up from the UCMECians and Gil-galad.
"What're we gonna do?" Even Nemis seems at a loss.
"Go and beat the Censored out of them!" Gil-galad says as he whips out Aeglos. Everyone is a little stunned by the King's words, everyone save Nemis who is to busy swooning over Gil-galad looking manly (hey, can you blame her?).
"That is a good idea..." Harle throws in. Autumn suddenly notices Haldir and an evil glint enters her eye. Harle clutches on to his arm and looks with fear upon Autumn.
"I have an idea...."
"So how is this supposed to work exactly?" Casey asks as they all stand outside the really big tent, the horde of slash/smut writers visible as they move towards Orodruin.
"Everyone knows that slash writers can't resist a few good Sindarin elves(not certain exactly what Haldir is, but go with it) so we just get some well known ones here and wait for them to come and then we "trade." Every one seems a little unsure of Autumn's idea but they all really want Elrond back, so they do go with it. "Oh, but one more thing, Gil-galad and all other elves aside from Haldir should probably be taken to the big tent and guarded. Many of the UCMECians look very depressed, Nemis most of all.
"Keep safe in the really big tent and for...my sake...stay away from the slash writers." Nemis contemplates about the smut writers but decides they probably wouldn't be writing about a couple she would like to see written about.
Haldir looks extremely nervous now as most of the remaining members, those that didn't go to guard the elves, stare at him. It isn't long before two more elves pop out of thin air, one blond, one silver haired.
"What the?!?!" Celeborn asks as he stands up, in full battle gear just waiting to be swooned over. Indeed, Autumn almost collapses at the sight but regains her composure quickly when she sees Legolas.
All the other members look at him like he's the dullest thing in the world too.
Like catching the sent of fresh meet on the wind, The slash/smut writers all turn to look in the opposite direction they were going and begin to run that way when they see silver and blond hair.
"Dear Ilúvatar! Not them, please!" Legolas screams as he hides behind Celeborn.
"I wouldn't get so close with them around, guys." Joan says. Everyone seems very frightened at the writers approaching but are thankful that with them, comes Elrond.
"NO!" Dark Nemis hollers angrily as she puts down a pair of binoculars. "Damn them! If my half-wit s/s writers can't get him for me, then I will get him myself!"
Far off from the mountain, Nemis shudders but does not know why...
The s/s writers, having double timed it, now stand facing the UCMECians, gnashing their teeth at them. "Give us the light hair colored ones! Now!" Celeborn, though completely thrown off by being transported so far from where he was fighting, grips his sword tightly and grinds his teeth as Legolas cowers behind him still and Haldir looks for a cue from his Lord.
"No! Give us back Elrond!" The UCMECians holler back. At that moment, Celeborn, Haldir and Legolas (not completely useless, incredibly enough) Whip out their bows and begin to fire like mad men on the s/s writers, causing them to drop the beloved elf Lord and retreat once more as Harle, completely crazed over their wanting to do bad things with Haldir goes after them a little ways.
"Yippee!" The UCMECians cried in unison as they all go to fetch Elrond. The Elves in the tent peer out timidly and Gil-galad, seeing that the coast is clear, runs to his vice-regent.
Gil-galad lifts up Elrond(Autumn firmly attached to him and dragging Celeborn along with her) and begins to walk to the tent(with Nemis firmly attached to him as well). The rest of the UCMECians claim their respective elves and walk back as well, all fully knowing that this was just one obstacle out of many.
Alena looks back at Legolas who is standing, looking a little dumbfounded. "Uhhh, guys, what do we do with him?" Everyone looks pensive for a moment until Nemis speaks.
"Just send him back to where he came from, he's served his purpose."
With a snap of her finger, Legolas disappears and the UCMECians continue walking back to the really big tent.
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Part 43 (in which Fëanor gets his revenge on the card, literally)
Katy
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The rest of the UCMECians and their respective elves all follow Gil-galad's lead to the original really big tent. They finally reach it and see that Fëanor, Maglor, and Eómer are all doing fine as are everyone else they hid there. Kelsey's playing cards are less than ok however, Fëanor decided that to preserve his dignity, he'd get the Silmarils by himself. The cards are in a small ripped pile of paper on the floor.
"You know, " Katy observes while snapping her fingers so she appears in cleaner clothes than her pyjamas (which YES I was wearing during the battle!) "She's never going to help you with that now..."
"I need no help from that section!" Hisses Fëanor furiously "I'll get my jewels myself."
"Er nooooooooooooo." Katy replies, "You won't get the one on the Vingilot for sure. I'll lent you a wetsuit for the one in the sea though."
Meanwhile, the rest of the UCMEC are guarding their Elves and Elrond. Gil-galad is guarding Elrond and Nemis who is guarding them both though they don't know it. " We need a plan." Announces Nemis, "Because Dark Nemis is up in that tower scheming at this very moment to get Elf boy and him." She motions to Gil-galad, who's on the sofa beside her.
"So...any ideas." Replies Joan.
"All sleep here tonight and mount watches."
"Surround the tent with Clones of Legolas so the Slash Writers and the Smut writers will just carry them off instead of our ones."
"Swap camps with Ping-Ring Boy and they'll carry off him."
"Too sleepy to think..."
The responses are called out. Haldir, it had to be noted did not look particularly comfortable with the clones of Legolas idea. Nobody looked particularly comfortable with the swap camps with Ping-Ring boy.
They all sit in silence for no-one knows how long. Eventually, Maglor rouses himself and finds Katy using his feet to a pillow. The rest of the UCMEC are distracted, with Alena cleaning slash writer blood from her sword, Nemis and Gil-galad trying to discreetly ogle each other, Autumn staring at Elrond and Joan wearing a pair of thick gloves and mending a rip in the underwear of Melkor. Kelsey is gazing lustfully at every male elf in the room while Casey tries to forge Glorfindel's signature (which unfortunately is very curly and intricate...so much for that cunning plan).
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Part 44 (in which the Samurai Realizes She Isn't Completely Infallible...And Gets the Loving She Deserves - Almost)
Harle
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Kelsey is gazing lustfully at every male Elf while Casey is trying to forge Glorfindel's signature (which unfortunately is very curly and intricate...so much for that cunning plan).
Harle glares at Kelsey, and she gets the message that she can ogle any Elf BUT Haldir. Speaking of Haldir, the poor Elf is in a terrible state of shock after the suggestion of the Legolas-clone-idea. Pitying him, Harle grins slightly, and nudges him gently in the side. "Don't you worry, I'm going to try and make sure that they don't push through with that plan."
Haldir looks at her, and for the first time since they met, his smile isn't one of sarcasm or annoyance. "Why would you do such a thing, Lady?"
Harle shrugged. "Do I have to give you a reason for that? I think you can figure that out just fine on your own." She lifts her wrist, and gives it a long, slow twist. And then...
"OW!!"
Almost everyone in the tent looks up at her. "Harle? What's the matter?" Alena asks.
"N-nah, it's nothing," Harle stammers as she grits her teeth and cradles her wrist against her chest. 'BLEEP, my wrist... When did I get it hurt THIS bad?!' She pushed her memory back a little, and remembered that, while driving back the s/s writers in their attempt to get back Elrond, one of the Haldir-slashers brought down a metal pipe on her right wrist - the one she used for wielding her naginata. But during that time, it didn't really matter; she was too mad to care.
Harle glances at her wrist, and realizes that it's a sick-looking purple-black color. She winces again as she shifts it slightly, moving it as though she were wielding her naginata in one of the more basic moves taught to her in kendo class. "Ouch."
"Is something the matter, Lady?" Haldir asks as he glances at her.
"No, it's nothing," Harle says quickly as she attempts to hide her injured wrist, but Haldir sees it (no thanks to his sharp Elvish senses).
He grins. "You are hiding something Lady." He leans forward, and whispers in her ear, "Come with me, we shall see to your wrist now, before it becomes worse." He takes her uninjured hand, and leads her to another, more private section of the Really Big Tent (how big is it anyway?).
Harle cannot keep the blushes from appearing on her face. "What are you planning to do, exactly?" she asks as she is seated on a cloth-covered crate, while Haldir rummages around in some other chests, and returns with a roll of cloth bandages. She furtively looks around, checking to see if there are any smut writers around. Finding none, she relaxes, and realizes that maybe Haldir is doing this of his own free will.
Haldir doesn't reply. Instead, he kneels down in front of Harle so that they are at eye level with each other, and starts to wrap the bandage around her bruised wrist.
Harle stares at him while he proceeds to do so, completely at a loss for words. She finds it completely impossible for cold, silent, haughty Haldir to finally be warming up to her, the crazy, wacky, too noisy Samurai/fic writer. 'Unless, of course, my deepest dreams and wishes are finally coming true, just as they did with Nemis...'
"There. I have finished."
Harle shakes herself out of her thoughts, and realizes that the bandages Haldir has procured are now bound tightly around her hand and wrist. She twists it again, and there is nothing left but a dull, tolerable pain. She
grins broadly as she looks at Haldir. "Thanks a lot, Haldir. I owe you one now."
The Elf chuckles softly as he sits down beside her, and Harle nearly melts into a puddle of goo at his feet. After all, it's a very rare thing to hear Haldir's laughter, whether chuckling or out loud, and Harle felt that she could die contented, now that she had heard it.
"You may be a fierce warrior on the battlefield, Lady Harle," Haldir whispers as he pushes back a strand of Harle's long black hair to reveal more of her blushing face, "but you are certainly a much different person when you are alone...or perhaps, when you are with me."
Harle laughs nervously again. "Hehe, well, that's me. People have accused me of having multiple-personality disorder, but hey, that's who I am. And please, just use Harle. No more of the 'Lady' bit."
"As you wish...Harle." Haldir pauses, then his voice dips in tonality as he says, "I may have not been in complete control of myself during that...incident," he begins, referring to the episode with the smut writers, "but I can still remember certain details. Such as the soft feel of your lips, and the sweet taste of your mouth..."
Harle's eyes widen to the size of teacups as she looks up at Haldir. "What?"
The fire is back in his eyes again, but it is a little more subdued, not glaringly bright like during the trouble with the smut writers. She feels a hand slide around her waist, another in her hair, and the eyes get closer and closer... She closes her eyes, feeling a puff of warm, moist air against her mouth...
"HARLE! HALDIR! Where ARE you two?! Harle, get out here RIGHT NOW!! We've got trouble coming!!!"
Haldir snaps away automatically, and Harle sighs irritably. 'Oh jeez, PERFECT timing!' She jumps up from where she has been sitting, and notices the rather disappointed look on Haldir's face. She smiles, and leans down to kiss him lightly on the cheek. "Hope you won't shoot me down for doing that." With a teasing smile, she turns away from him, and heads to where the others are to investigate this new problem.
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Part 45 (in which we see Joan showing Eómer how to handle a grenade-launcher, and a Nazgûl)
Joan
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"What did you say that thing was again?" Eómer asks, admiring a sleek piece of machinery. Joan smirks.
"Grenade launcher."
"Most ingenious."
"Sure enough. Want to learn how to use it?"
The horse-lord frowns and peeks into the barrel. "Sounds interesting..."
"Wellllllll," Joan purrs, tossing aside the Green Underwear of Doom. The UCMECians exchange knowing smiles. "Knowledge comes with a price, ya know..."
She begins advancing in a manner hard to mistake for anything but pure rudeness while Eómer, poor sweetie that he is, blushes and scrambles for cover. Gil-Galad frowns at Nemis.
"I thought he was not an Elf..."
"He isn't," The Ilúvatar-powered one notes while testing how much chocolate her powers allow her to create out of thin air. "Then again, she isn't mentally stable."
"I bloody heard that too!" Comes an angry yell from outside, where Eómer has just discovered Joan can indeed undress him with a thought. Then the yell is followed by a shriek.
The writers and Elf-lords jump to their feet, weapons are drawn at once, Autumn screams for Harle and Haldir, who have disappeared under not-so-mysterious circumstances. But before anyone can move, Joan re-enters the ReallyBigTent, wide-eyed and whimpering, followed by a towering Ringwraith pointing a nasty sword at her back.
"A Nazgûl!" Katy shouts.
"D-d-d'oh..." Joan answers.
Seeing his writer in distress, Fëanor doesn't hesitate one moment in rushing forward, mighty sword drawn, and almost swings at the Ringwraith when quite suddenly (making him stop abruptly and trip over), the black cloak of the Nazgûl is tossed back, revealing two Frodo-clones one standing on the other's shoulders. From the dazed look in their eyes the UCMECians can at once see that they have been brainwashed by too many horrible Mary Sue stories and turned into zombies in service of...
"Dark Nemis..." Casey gasps. "She... she recruited the Mary Sues...?"
"CENSORED!!" everyone present cries out at once.
The top Frodo, unfazed, opens his mouth and with a dumb expression begins reciting in his best BtVS-Musical-Henchman-voice:
"I-come-bearing-a-message-from-her-Darkness-Dark-Nemis-ruler-by-right-of-all-the\-lands-of-Middle-Earth.
We-have-one-of-your-number-captive-in-our-base-of-operations.
If-you-wish-to-ever-see-L'il-Ereinion-again-surrender-the-Elven-High-King-to-me-\at-once.
Otherwise-suffer-the-consequences. Have-a-nice-day."
Then pushing the petrified Joan into the tent, the two Frodos quickly retreat before any writer or Elf has a chance to move.
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part 46 (in which we plan to get up the mountain, where Dark Nemis is settling in)
Nemis
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Gil-galad, chewing some of the chocolate Nemis has been offering him (time for a spin-off) looks at the others. The chocolate seems to have affected his watchfulness somewhat.
'What is a L'il Ereinion?'
Nemis gives Joan an angry look. Joan slowly nods.
'He's you, but smaller. Remember you didn't want to be sent to the sea by your father?' (who I, Nemis, still assume to be Fingon, by the way, despite some people really screwing with my mind)
Gil-galad nods and smiles, tucking a braid behind his ear, making Nemis and Joan swoon at the same time.
'Aaaw…'
Casey is holding her forged signature to the light, seemingly very pleased with her work. She looks from Joan to Nemis to Gil-galad.
'You're not even thinking of exchanging Gil for Ereinion, are you?'
Nemis recovers quickly.
'Of course we are not.' She looks at Gil-galad. 'No more miss Nice-girl.' She offers her hand and Gil-galad is quickly on his feet to meet it.
'Well, yes, but shouldn't we get the little version of me first?'
Most UCMEC-ians give him and Nemis a stare, except Casey who gives them a thumbs-up. Nemis smiles.
'I mean, I'm going to find Dark Nemis and end this once and for all.' She frowns at Gil-galad. 'I should really stop feeding you chocolate.' Then she looks around. 'I am taking Ereinion…' She exchanges a quick glance with the High-king again. 'So Dark Nemis will think I am there to exchange him for L'il Ereinion. Which I am not really doing, naturally. I can not force any of you to come with me…'
'Like, we're having a better time in this tent?' Alena grins, patting her weapon.
Up there, somewhere, in the Barad-Dûr…
'What's the idea of sending those Halflings to do a wraith's job anyway?' Sauron asks, his feet on the table now too, as Dark Nemis is smoothing her nails.
'Those wraiths of yours aren't really top notch, are they, Gorthaur-baby?' She responds, giving him a mocking look.
'We are reminded of them being 'the most powerful servants of Sauron' (yes, she mimics that along with her fingers, and you can too) all the time, but they can't even get their hands on one scruffy Hobbit. That, and Elrond seems a hellovalot more powerful with doing his river-thingy than they, right?'
Sauron looks at her.
'I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.'
Dark Nemis sighs deeply and makes a volume of Fellowship of the Rings appear out of thin air.
'Read this, smart-ass.' She chucks it into the dark lord's direction. 'Sheesh. You are soo gonna get it when Melkor returns and finds you slacking around. Can't even kill a bunch of nancing Elves, by Bloody Mandos!'
Sauron seems suddenly very worried about Melkor and start flipping through the book.
'Do I really have to read all that?'
'If you weren't on my side, I'd make ya, but, since I'm supposed to be helping, better start with chapter 11, you'll see what I mean about those wraiths too.'
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part 47 (in which Fëanor keeps nagging about Silmarils, and we see more of Kelsey's vivid imagination)
Kelsey
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As the UCMECians suited up for battle (They decided on the comfort and versatility of flannel pajamas with UCMEC printed on them) Fëanor pulled Kelsey aside.
"Perhaps I was rash in destroying your cards, although my heart forebodes that you did not compete with the fairness of a Valar..." Fëanor started.
Kelsey just shrugged she was enraptured by his perfect hands not really focusing on what he was saying, they must be very skilled she supposed, for umm making things! right like Silmarils! She quickly changed her thoughts realizing the members of fanfiction.net would soon be reading them.
"But the past is...the past, and I think we could be friends...if you would help me find my precious." The lat half of the sentence he cried shaking her by the lapels of her stylish pjs.
"Well I think SCUBA gear could help with the one..."
"Where would I find it? Does Sauron have it? does he?" He's so cute when he's worked up she mused, except for that little facial tic. Fëanor was aghast, he was panic stricken he could feel the little muscle high on his cheekbone jumping as he clenched his jaw in frustration and she was gazing into his eyes moonily probably didn't hear a word he had said. Nothing another good shaking wouldn't resolve.
"GAH! WHat WHAT?!" Kelsey snapped out of her reverie by Fëanor's increasingly irrational behavior and he stopped shaking her. "I don't know if Sauron has SCUBA gear I never took him for a lover of water sports but I suppose he might..." She landed with a dull thud on the ground, as Fëanor who had been holding her 5'7 frame on eye level with him let her drop. He turned to the remaining Valar and Nemis Eru.
"I must come with you to help save the upstart, errr the High King." he proclaimed, proving he had very little talent for lying.
"What do we do about stray slash writers since my hand is incapacitated?"
Harle asked shooting seductive glances at a blushing Haldir. "It seems we need to figure that out." she added turning towards Erestor who was stroking Eómer's chest, and Eómer himself was purring.
"Well I think I can handle one or two at a time..." Kelsey replied reaching down into a thorny, leafless bush and pulling out a slavering smut author. She leaned over and began whispering in his ear, immediately he started grinning and rubbing his hands in what can only be described as an evil fashion. Soon his head began to spin wildly and with a sickening *pop* it exploded. Daintily Kelsey heaved what was left of him back into the bush.
Eómer quickly slapped Erestor's hand away and Erestor started to wash it in a basin.
"What did you do to him?" Ereinion asked astounded.
"Oh come on, I'm working on building a harem, I got Fëanor to play strip poker for Eru's sake! If you don't think I can match this amateur vivid image for vivid image you are mistaken. Now if I can find where I put my Marquis de Sade and Lady Chatterly's Lover we can be on our way!"
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Part 48 (in which Alena finds out how drunk Elrond really is…)
Alena
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Alena sighed. Harle and Haldir seem to have fallen under each other's spell, Kelsey's got Fëanor twisted around her little finger, and Gil-galad, of course, was fated to belong to Nemis from the get-go.
Everyone's gotten her Elf, except her, it seems. Of course, there is still Elrond, but he appears to be in a permanently drunken/dazed/disgusted state to be of much fun. Plus, despite everything, she hasn't completely forgotten what the C in UCMEC (the second one, I mean) stands for.
As she wiped her blade again absent-mindedly, Maglor sidled up to her.
"You were magnificent in the battle," he whispered, his voice every inch that of Arda's most renowned singer.
"Don't even think about it, Maggy," she snapped. "Don't forget that your mommy and I go way back."
Maglor backed off, dejected, and Alena shook her head slightly. Oh well. There's always battle and ass-kicking to keep her spirit up, at least. But if Dark Nemis has got an army of s/s writers, Mary Sues, and clones now, perhaps it is time to be a bit better prepared. Her trusty rusty sword is all very well, yet it can go only so far, after all.
"Hey guys!" she called out, "I think it's time to pull out some better weaponery..."
"What do you want?" Joan asked, shouldering her grenade launcher. She snapped her fingers, stuck her head into the space-time portal that opened up before her, and began to rummage. "Let's see what we've got here... Lightsabre, dental instruments, bullwhip...Hmmm, I think the stealth bomber wouldn't fit in here...Neither would the aircraft carrier...I've also got some phasers and Excalibur."
"I'll take the bullwhip, I guess." Alena switched the sword to her left hand and caught the whip that Joan tossed to her by the handle.
She went over to Elrond, who was staring one-eyed into a wine bottle, trying to see if there's anything left in it.
"Hey Rondo! Quit with the booze! It's time to go!"
Elrond looked up, straight into her face. Strangely, all signs of drunkenness are now gone from his eyes. "Let me tell you a little secret," he smiled. "an Elf-lord never gets or remains drunk, unless he wants to."
Alena's eyes widened. "You mean...Do you mean that..."
"Would your, um, associates leave me alone, if it is otherwise?"
An answering smile rose to Alena's face. Elrond winked at her. Maybe, just maybe, she thought, despite the second C in UCMEC, she can still 'borrow' him for a little while.
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part 49 (in which Katy shows of her ability to sleep everywhere)
Katy
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While everyone is picking weapons for themselves. Katy (after Maglor b*gg*r*d off to go talk to Alena) is lying still fast asleep and prostrate on the floor of the Really Big Tent, getting trodden on and tripped over by mostly everyone else (apart from Nemis and Gil-galad who -weapons in hand- are still swooning and gazing at each other as if nothing else in the world matters). Haldir and Harle have both chosen weapons and have tried to retire to a discreet corner of the tent but were dragged back by Joan and Fëanor.
It is Glorfindel who finally notices that Katy's current status is literally the carpet and manoeuvres her onto a couch and safely out the way. "Could someone wake the Lady." He calls over the soft sounds of the room. The rest look up with blank faces, unwilling to leave their current distractions and so Erestor (being the only unoccupied one) if left the job.
Leaning over, he shakes her gently on the shoulder "My Lady. It is time to wake."
" Whazza...trnt gets slup." Is the only response he gets as Katy moves away from the hand on her shoulder.
He laughed softly "You must wake now. The battle is to come now."
"Nos not. Battle tmorrw. Wanna sleep now or no energy for fight. Go 'way."
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What will happen next? (does it appear we know? ;)))
Hit da button anyway!