Disclaimer: see Part I, also for one sentence I borrowed from Lewis Carroll, no infringement intended.

Author's note: I'm sorry for the sheer stupidity of this, and in case you disapprove, I do not intend to write anymore anyway. By the way, it does not totally make sense.

Part III

Yes Laura ran. Her leg really was not injured at all, it had all been a ploy, so she could play the damsel in distress for Legolas to rescue. Only she had been found out. Elrond had seen through her, and at present she was running. Where? She was not sure, which was most unlike her. Without warning though she fell…through a plot hole.

The former Eltinmirwen landed in a heap, most un lady-like, or rather elf-like. Trying to regain her composure, she looked around. The place had an edge of familiarity, perhaps it was New Zealand? She tossed her head sideways, and in doing so her mane of silvery, dewy brown hair sparkled in the sunrise. Dawn had always been her favourite time of day.

Eltinmirwen skipped along the road, feeling happy. She had managed, thanks to the plot hole to be rid of Elrond's keen gaze and strange eyebrows, unfortunately in the process she was also separated from Legolas. But seeing as she had always wanted to visit New Zealand, the filming location of her all time favourite film, she was rather satisfied.

*

She walked a long time; the sun rose and shone in the sky, then waned again before she met anyone.

'G'day' she tried.

A man looked down at her from his horse. He uttered words in a foreign tongue.

'Typical', thought Eltinmirwen, 'I finally meet someone and they're not even local.'

'Who are you Milady?' the man asked again, 'I wish you were not quite so deaf for I've had to ask you twice.'

'Oh! I didn't understand the first time.'

'I was speaking in the high elven speech. I should have thought you'd be fluent by now.'

'I know, I know!' Eltinmirwen wrung her hands in despair. 'I have a fairly good grasp of Sindarin, but Quenya lessons just don't fit in around cheerleading.'

The elf, for he was indeed an elf, gazed down at the girl approvingly. Finally someone with his view of life.

'May I ask what name you go by?'

'Eltinmirwen Starwatcher Springstep.' Gone were her thoughts of repentance, of dashed hopes and plain Laura with them.

'A very uncommon name.' The elf mirrored Legolas' thoughts. 'You may call me Glorfindel.'

Eltinmirwen melted on the spot. Here was a beautiful, tall elf, with what's more, blonde hair (Legolas had been forgotten by now). The elf gave her his hand and in a moment she was seated behind the chief of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin, though she did not know it. The couple rode off into the sunset.

This idyll did not last long. Darkness came over Aman (though she did not know that that was indeed where she was).

'I have a feeling of déja vu Eltinmirwen. This does not bode well.'

'Oh Glorfy.' Eltinmirwen was at a loss for words, so sighed dramatically. She shuddered and hugged Glorfindel in a tight arm hold.

'I cannot quite breath Milady.'

'Sorry, sorry.' Eltinmirwen let go. 'Is it far to get home?'

'Home means many things.' Glorfindel replied mysteriously. 'But yes, we are very near Tirion, upon Tuna, where we shall stay the night.'

'Tuna. What a strange name. You know in my-' Laura stopped herself. She was about to say that in her world, tuna was a rather delicious fish, which helped maintain a healthy heart. 'In my lifetime, I have never been there.' She corrected herself.

'It is a most wonderful sight. I am pleased to be the one to show you around.'

'Oh no you don't.' A dark voice was heard.

Glorfindel's horse neighed, nearly throwing off his two riders, for there before them stood Curufinwë but known as Fëanor to all. His lips curled into an ugly smile as he slowly approached the animal.

'Permit me, Lady, to welcome you to Eldamar, and particularly to Tirion, my ex-home.' Gracefully he bowed, and his velvety hair hung down in loose strands, either side of his face. Laura would be awed, but Eltinmirwen really did sparkle all over. As the second elf in that day gave her his hand, she lightly jumped down from the horse.

'You know this is where I shot my first arrow… You must visit the forge, and also see the first jewel I ever created…' Fëanor's voice drifted off into the distance, but Eltinmirwen's occasional laughter could be heard echoing for some time after both had disappeared from sight.

Glorfindel cast a lonely figure, as he hunched over his horse, both shadows growing longer into the night.

*

Meanwhile, Fëanor was introducing Eltinmirwen to an eager crowd of elves, in the heart of Tirion. She shook many a hand, and smiled keenly to all. A certain Nerdanel glowered at her, no doubt jealous of Eltinmirwen's superior beauty.

'I assure she has something of the Valar in her!' Announced Maglor.

Murmurs of agreement could be heard throughout the gathering.

Eltinmirwen smiled gratefully, though not understanding the full meaning of the compliment. Caranthir smiled greedily at her, while Curufin bowed low, as had previously his father. It was not just, he thought, that his father should get the girl, for he was already married.

After a heart meal, Eltinmirwen retired to a room with a wonderful view of the bizarrely name Tuna. The white sheets were crisp and warm, and she snuggled comfortably beneath them, and within a moment, was fast asleep.

As a new day dawned, she was woken to the sound of rattling cutlery.

'Breakfast in bed.' Fëanor grinned.

'How thoughtful.' Eltinmirwen sipped delicately at her tea, and took nibbles of her lembas.

'You must rise now. My father demands an audience with you, and you cannot be late...' (We are supposing here that Finwë has been reborn.)

At the same moment Eltinmirwen first gazed upon Finwë, Eru, Iluvatar, the One, hummed to himself. The beauty of the fair elf maiden did not deceive him, although the Noldor seemed to fall for it. It was her sheer nerve that awed him. The way she managed to wriggle her way into the heart of the Eldar, into a community many ages old, and get away with it. He could not stand for it. Either she went back to whence she came from, or he had her killed. Simple as that. He was rather disinclined to carry out the latter, but he had no notion of how to send the girl back to her land. The circles of the world were immense; he could not hazard a guess and risk her ending up in the Void, with for neighbour, Melkor. He pondered quite some time on the issue, before finally coming to a conclusion. He would marry her. Thus she would not be visible in Aman and would reside with him, watching down on the happenings in the world, but unable to intervene. He decided to act immediately, before Eltinmirwen had time to wreak more havoc, among the supposed Wise, where was their knowledge on such an occasion he did not know.

Eltinmirwen, who was engaged in a sound discussion with Finwë on the subject of polygamy, began slowly to dissipate. Looking down at her hands they seemed blurred, somewhat distant and pale. The High King of the Noldor seemed to be looking straight through her, with a bemused expression on his face.

'Eltinmirwen! … Eltinmirwen?'

'I'm here!' Shouted Eltinmirwen, and waved her hands in front of Finwë's face. But her cries were unavailing, and inaudible. She stamped her foot on the tiled floor, but of course no one could hear her.

Then came a low chuckling, reverberating around the hall.

'What is to become of you, Laura?' It seemed to say. Finwë was still sitting in his chair, looking pensive.

'Who are you?' Eltinmirwen asked to the ceiling.

'Why, I would have thought you'd know. I am Eru Iluvatar, all seeing all knowing. And I know who you are.'

'Why can't I see you? I don't believe you!'

'Of course you can.'

Eltinmirwen looked around. The hall of Finwë had disappeared. She could not totally distinguish where she was, or who she now was. Her body form had evaporated; she was no more but Fëa. Looking down though, she could see Tirion upon Tuna unfurled in miniature beneath her. She could actually see Fëanor, and Glorfindel, and Finwë and many other elves getting along with their daily lives, as if she had never existed.

'This is the world as it should be.' A voice spoke in her ear.

'Mister Iluvatar, sir, what do you want me to do?' Her voice quivered slightly.

'You shall be my scribe.' Eru pronounced his judgement with satisfaction. 'And bride.'

'Is it possible for me to marry a God?'

'You are forgetting you are one too. Though your powers are limited.'

'What can I do? Can I make the weather change, people fall in and out of love?'

'You can practise calligraphy marvellously well.'

~Fin.

Author's Note #2:  Yes it's awful, but I had to get this out of my system. Better out than in they say. Don't worry, no more will be following! Please leave comments, and/or flames.