Correspondence
Disclaimer: These characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. The fanfiction belongs to me.
Warning: Slash!!! And weirdness too! Not to mention funny pairings and a really desperate Arwen. Heh, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!!!
Note: Okay, I've run out of ideas for a while for LOTR, but fortunately for me and unfortunately for all of you, I found a beast called the plot cockroach, and he's been nibbling at the ends now. It's also OOS (out of storyline). So here are the pairings, in case that's all you're here for:
Arwen/Aragorn, Aragorn/Legolas, Pippin/Elrond, Elrond/Gandalf, Glorfindel/Merry, Elladan/Frodo, Elrohir/Sam
Plot Cockroach: I decided to write this after a nice game of FFIX and watching Eiko blunder up her task. In the same way poor Arwen is going to blunder up. Just take it as a parody, please??? No Arwen bashing… XD
Personal Question: Okay, I'll ask this to people who are slash goers, knowing that a majority of you are women. Please answer this, is possible, as honestly as you can – does the idea of a guy writing slash creep you out? Because if it does, I'll try to stop writing for your sake. No, I won't take comments from flamers. Sorry.
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Act One – The One In Which Arwen Makes A Big Mistake
Arwen, the sweet and beautiful Lady of the Manor, had had her wonderful amorous eyes set on the hunky biceps of the great man, Estel. Now, Estel was a noble, good-looking man, and he had a fair share of proposals going his way. Yet, he was genial and very diplomatic, although he was a weather beaten Ranger, and he declined many requests, saying that his love was saved for someone he held fairer.
The fellowship had returned from their task of destroying the One Ring, and they had decided to reside in Imladris, at least for a while. It was now that Arwen decided to go for broke and profess her love for Estel, also known as Aragorn, and Strider to the Hobbits. But Arwen did not know how to do so. She decided to pace around the garden to wait for a plan to unfold.
"Hmm…" she hummed to herself, smiling grimly. "Hmm… how shall I…?"
"How shall you what, Arwen?"
She looked up, and smiled when she saw an old Hobbit walking up to her. It was Bilbo, a trusted friend of her father's, and a kindly old soul he was, always trying to help others when they were in need.
"I want to confess," she sighed, her breath airy. "…My love for a man. How do you think is the best way to do so?"
He chuckled in a kind way of his. "Ah, I see, you're shy about this. Well, I'll think of a way for you…"
Bilbo thought hard for a moment as Arwen held her breath, anticipating. Finally the old Hobbit snapped his fingers and grinned wide enough to split his wrinkled, jovial face. "AHA! I found it!" he turned to her, beaming still. "You can write a letter to him, Arwen, and use very romantic words. Any man would fall for that!"
"Would he?" Arwen asked doubtfully. Bilbo twitched his eyebrows in a humorous manner.
"Yes, yes, of course, my dear girl," he replied hastily. "I have to go now. I hope to see you again, Arwen."
"Oh, Bilbo, wait!" she exclaimed, running up to the departing hobbit. He spun round to meet her sheepish grin. "I would like you to help me write the letter, Bilbo dear. Would you, please?"
The last 'please' sounded sweetly topped with icing, till Bilbo sighed exaggeratedly. He nodded, putting his hands behind him. "Very well. Come with me, Arwen. We shall write a storm!"
Arwen walked behind him, her head already floating in the wide skies of fantasy.
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"What would you do after this, Estel?"
Elrond tilted his head at Aragorn, losing his professional outlook as soon as the doors to his chamber were closed. The man took a seat across his foster father, sighing as he did.
"I don't really know, sir," he replied honestly. "I would love to get married, settle down, and have children, I suppose."
"What's stopping you, then, Estel?" he asked kindly, leaning against his chair and closing his eyes. Aragorn could see clearly that his foster father was tired and weary, but like every good parent, still strove to fill in the needs of his children, lavishing him his attention.
"Well, I can't say…" he began, and then he stopped. Elrond lifted an eyelid questioningly, prompting the man to finish his sentence. Aragorn took a deep breath and spoke. "I haven't really any interest in women."
"No?" Elrond sat up. "Not even Arwen?"
"Comely she is, but, no, not Arwen," Aragorn could not find anything else suffice to say to Elrond. The half-elf shook his head in surprise. This was bad news for his daughter!
"Very well, then, Estel," Elrond finally said, folding his arms. "I'll tell you what – now that the ring is gone, I'll be leaving Middle-Earth. But I can't leave without seeing my sons get married first… oh, you know, the usual old-folks-are-weird-stuff. That's my last wish, Estel. I really do wish you'd marry, even if you weren't really my flesh and blood. But you are, technically, since I hold you dear to my heart."
"Elladan, or maybe Elrohir could," Aragorn suggested eagerly. But his foster father only laughed.
"Estel! Your brothers are… Hmmphh," he choked for a moment. "Fruitcakes."
"What?" Aragorn sat up. He had no interest in women… but… men?
"I'm doomed, never to see my sons marry," Elrond suddenly looked sad. "I shall die a very sad elf, Estel."
"You can't die, sir," Aragorn grinned nervously. "You're an elf."
"I could die of heartbreak," Elrond suggested blandly. "I could go insane and kill myself."
"Well, don't, sir," Aragorn said, getting up. He leaned in close to meet his foster father's silvery gaze. "It wouldn't be good. How would you take it, if either of us married a man instead of a woman?"
Elrond sat up and a smile lit up his fair face. He grasped hold of Aragorn's hand, and stood up. "Oh, really, would you, Estel? That would be lovely! How very kind of you! Well, then! Let us marry you to your darling next week!" he scrambled out to the doorway, even before Aragorn could speak, and disappeared to get the preparations done.
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"Oh, Bilbo! That's wonderful!"
"I know, I know," Bilbo laughed good-naturedly.
"Thank you." Arwen kissed his cheek. She turned to the door and left, practically skipping. What a piece of romantic satire! Before long, she came to a bright rose garden hanging above a lake. It was perfect for romance. Arwen grinned and pulled a magic quilt pen out of her pocket. It was quickly dipped it into the fountain in the center to spark the ink. Then she wrote beneath the poem, the name of the place.
'West Rose Garden'.
She giggled insanely for a while, and then hearing a clear voice singing, one she knew to be her eldest brother's, she darted off, pushing the quilt pen and the paper into her dress. But unfortunately, and unintentionally, the piece of paper slipped out of the folds of her dress and fluttered down to the ground below.
Elladan stepped into the fresh garden, and his voice ceased when he spotted a white note on the green grass near the fountain. He brushed his dark haired back, clutching a little on, in surprise. Nervously, looking left and right, and noting that no one was around, he picked it up, and unfolded it.
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'When the sky wears the moon upon its chest as a pendant, It is then when lovers meet to confess true affection. And hereby I ask thou, wait for me in the West Rose Garden.' |
Elladan swallowed hard, as he stared at the object in his hands with fascination. A love letter! Who was it for? It possibly should be his, since he knew that this was his haunt. Soon, he heard the sounds of merry laughter and footsteps. Elladan ran off, leaving the piece of paper behind.
Frodo came up the clearing with his merry friends, the hobbits. They chatted gaily, laughing and smiling as they talked. Suddenly, Pippin stopped down to retrieve a mushroom from the ground. It had evidently sprouted out after a nice warm shower.
"Oh, look! Mushrooms!"
There was a royal rush for the delicious fungi, and in the midst of the confusion, Frodo picked up a piece of paper. He read the contents and paled out.
"What's wrong, Frodo?" Merry asked his cousin concernedly. Sam and Pippin rushed to his side, and snatched the letter from his hands. Frodo let them do so, watching helplessly.
"'When the sky wears the moon upon its chest as a pendant, it is then when lovers meet to confess true affection. And hereby I ask thou, wait for me in the West Rose Garden.' Huh?" Pippin said, puzzling over the poem. "What's that mean?"
"It's a love letter, silly!" Merry answered, hitting his cousin's head in jest. He then turned to Frodo questioningly. "Is it for you, Frodo?"
Sam smiled. He felt happy for his master. Clapping Frodo on his back, Sam nodded to Frodo kindly. "I'm sure it is. Anyone who isn't blind could appreciate Mr. Frodo. Why, my gaffer once said, 'Sam, old boy, that Mr. Baggin's nephew is one good lad. One day some hobbit lass will turn up at his door and tell him of her love for his hinny.' And he was right. Now this is the work of an elvish lass! Elves, sir! Beautiful they are! You truly have luck, sir!"
"Thank you, Sam," Frodo felt comforted. Merry and Pippin laughed, and began to sing again, the words of the letter, in a mock-heroic fashion. Soon night would fall, and they would get to meet the secret admirer.
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"Oh, no!!! I lost it!!!" Arwen was close to pulling her hair out. She had chanced to see Aragorn cross by her, and reached out to search for the letter – it was gone!
"SOMEONE'S GOING TO PAY!" she stormed, and walked away huffily from a shocked Legolas. He fell over with a yelp, but Arwen was already a long way off, so she did not stop to help him up. Aragorn, who heard the shout, came up to see what the commotion was. He noticed his companion, and then went to help the elf up.
"Are you all right?" he asked. Legolas stood up and brushed his clothes self-consciously. He then nodded gratefully at Aragorn.
"I was just a little shocked. Thank you."
"That sounded like Arwen. I wonder what made her so angry?"
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Night fell. The moon shone brightly in the sky, and few clouds were present to mar its beauty. Stars were sprinkled over the twilight heavens, and the waters of the lake murmured sleepily in the distance.
Arwen went up and hid herself, just in case someone else had gotten the letter. In her curiosity, she failed to notice another party hidden by the bushes right at the edge of the fountain, or hear the whispers and excited chuckling that broke out now and then.
Suddenly, a shape appeared.
He was slender, cloaked in the moonlight. The beams reflected clearly in his midnight colored locks, even as they flowed out like jet-black waters, in the breeze. He looked strangely magical under the night skies, and his skin glowed with the everlasting radiance of the elves. Arwen's eyes went wide.
It was Elladan!
Then, as if by queue, another figure came out of the shadows. His skin did not glow, and he was surprisingly small. However, distinctly a gem he wore… the phial of Galadriel shone in his bosom, and he stepped up silently, his hair-covered feet making no sound over the rustling grass that he trod upon.
Elladan and Frodo stared at one another for a full minute, in silence.
"…Master Frodo?"
Frodo goggled at the serene beauty that was the elf before him. He was a little tall to a hobbit, but he was very fair and delicate looking, to say at least. He found his tongue at last. "Ah, sir, but I… oh… you're Elrond's son. Are you Elladan? I know it through your speech."
Elladan smiled faintly. His brother was different from him, he knew. Elrohir would greet people, normally, by their names, without titles. He did not seem to see the point in using titles. 'Stuffy', he called them. And as for Elladan, he was refined and collected in speech.
"It is I," he replied slowly, trying to hide his blush. Ah, what a fine hobbit this was! Elladan was taken in immediately. He looked at the dark sky, and motioned the hobbit to join him. Frodo looked on, happy to be in the midst of one so appealing.
"Beautiful night, is it not?"
"Yes, indeed."
"You're a very… wonderful elf, ah, half-elf, Master Elladan," Frodo said, catching the very first words that stumbled out of his mouth. "Man of the Stars you truly are. The Lady Kindler has done a fine job in creating you." He suddenly found himself going red. Did he really say that?
"Thank you, Master Frodo," the half-elf managed to say, without choking over his words. "And you are a noble warrior. Tonight shall do us justice." He bent down, and sat on the grass. Frodo followed suit, settling down beside him. He vaguely caught the smell of forests emanating from the elfish being, feeling strangely enthralled and comforted. Sighing, he leaned in.
Arwen slapped her forehead and ran her fingers down her face in exasperation. Someone wasn't going to pay.
Above them, the moon shone brightly.
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To Be Continued
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Note: Thanks if you read up to here. I think I'm not good in this sort of parodies. I like serious stuff, I think. What do you think? Next part, I'll bring Elrohir and Sam together. Like those weird pairings, heh! XD
