Disclaimer: I, Gaslight, hereby swear I am not using the work of Tolkien
for grubby financial gain. However, I *am* using that entity known far and
wide as "The Sue" for cheap laughs and a way to pass the time at work.
If I win Barad-dûr, I'll turn it into a timeshare. All are welcome, as long as you don't mind an atmosphere of poisonous ash and smoke akin to Gary, Ind.
My language is veering from idiotic to overly flowery to mildly intelligent. I'm just writing this off the cuff. Hey, just like a Sue! It's been an interesting experience, lemme tell ya! I haven't thought it out to the end at all-- Hey, wait a minute!!!!!
And what about a very obvious plothole? Should I fill it? (*cough* Her ears! *cough*) WWSD?
When we last left our heroine, she was enthusiastically embarking on a snogfest with the lithe and leggy Prince of Mirkwood. With her new-found knowledge and strength that she was the ultimate gift to Middle Earth, did she overpower him and show him the way to heaven and back? Or did the author step in and save his enticingly grab-able Elvish butt? [I'm pulling for ya, Leggy!]
CHAPTER THREE
"Damn his chocolately brown eyes!" Mergiliandowë cursed as she strode back into the palace, her heel broken (yet not noticeably so, as her innate poise rendered any inconvenience negligible) and a genteel smudge of dirt gracing her smooth and sculpted cheek, bone structure that made accomplished sculptors weep in amazement and vow to die trying to capture her beauty. (Phew!)
"One kiss! That's all I could manage before he was whisked away! And he would have made such a handsome King of Gondor!"
As if two discoveries weren't enough - her divine fate and Legolas' obvious preference for sweaty and unshowered Rangers - her attempted frolic with the babe-o-licious Legolas has revealed that her delicately pointed ears were nothing more than tips stuck onto her human ones! What gives? How come she'd never noticed this ploy by the elfs to make her think she was actually one of them? Oh well, such things were not important when she had a kingdom to conquer, a planet to dazzle, and men to happily die for her.
She entered her chamber and signaled to her servants for a bath. Amongst the bubbles, she dreamily pondered her future, which was looking better and better. A Queen! Of Gondor! Of course they were backward yokels compared to the elfs -- not her relatives after all *sniff sniff* -- but if she had a crown and power, then Legolas would realize the error of his ways and decide that she was much better company than a stinky Ranger. A crown, a pretty wand thingy to wave around, and a rehabilitated Prince for her King!
***
"OK, I'm not mad at you for running off, Legolas. I think I can help you. In fact, I know I can. You're just confused. Even though you braid your hair, trust me - Strider doesn't notice. He already has Arwen. Don't you see? He's a good-for-nothing bounder!"
"You are correct, as usual," Legolas sighed, inwardly vowing to dash off a Dear John letter that night. "Mergiliandowë, I believe myself lost when you are not around to advise me. I sometimes forget that you are the younger in years because your wisdom rivals that of the gods. You were merely trying to heal me under the cherry tree with the selfless love you have always possessed. I was just too self-absorbed to realize it. You have my eternal thanks for putting me on a straight path." He frowned and looked so distressed that Mergiliandowë knew he was being tortured with love for her. "It's impossible to explain, but I often feel like I don't even know who I am, my moods change so. Do you ever feel like that?"
"Heavens, no!" Mergiliandowë burbled in giddy amusement, her captivating smile creating dimples that begged to be worshipped. [Did I overstep the line on that one?] "I always know what to do. I was born with everything a goddess should have."
Legolas could only gaze in unabashed adoration. When she whipped out a map with the flourish of a conquering general, her confident poise chased all thoughts of everyone being even remotely equal to her from his mind. She was all the strengths of Middle Earth, none of the weaknesses.
"Now, my plan is to ride from Mirkwood to Gondor with you and Strider. But if he starts anything funny, back he goes!"
"I swear on everything that is pure, holy, and decent - namely your sweet self - that he will not corrupt me again."
"Good! Now, once we get there, I'm going to knock on the gate, they'll let me in, and I'll win!" She clapped her hands. "Isn't it just too brilliant? Oh, I imagine there will be some resistance, but that's nothing my smile hasn't taken care of before."
"Mendwë," he whispered. "I love you! I love you with my head, my heart, and my devastating British accent!"
"Oh, Orlando!" Mergiliandowë cried, falling into his outstretched arms. Much slurping, smacking and rumpy-pumpy ensued. Starbursts and rainbows and fireworks ignited and teenage girls everywhere sighed in envy and cried at the beauty of it. And the map could now tell its friends what a butt feels like.
***
"Ho! Legolas!" came Strider's voice from outside the door.
Luckily Legolas and Mergiliandowë had managed to get dressed and thus set the plot back on its staggering course, so any embarrassment was avoided. Tempting as it was to rip Strider a new one for interrupting her, she was feeling very charitable today.
"Enter!" she cried.
Strider strode in, filthy and smelly as usual. Mergiliandowë's delicately- curved nostrils quivered in disgust. Had he *ever* taken a bath? It was nothing a bit of Sauron's Strawberry Bath Foam couldn't cure, but wrestling with a panicky dog over a washtub was not part of her divine mission.
"I come from Rivindel," he said, talking directly to Legolas.
"What news?" Legolas asked eagerly.
"ExCUSE me?" Mergiliandowë snapped. "HelLO?"
"The Ringbearer is recovering from a wound by a Morgûl blade, although for some time we feared for his life," Strider continued. "Gandalf is there as well, having escaped from the tricks of Saruman. Elrond is calling a council to decide the course we must take to save Middle Earth from destruction and bring peace to these lands forever more. Our path will not be an easy one, I fear."
"Let me get my horse and pack," Legolas said, heading towards the door, Strider behind him.
"A-HEM!"
The men turned around to see a slim figure brimming over with fires of spit. "Just what is this 'council'?" If it is supposed to save Middle Earth, I have that sewn up."
"Somehow I doubt that," Strider smirked. "Sauron the Deceiver is a foe which no one can destroy, save the one thing that makes him powerful. The ring is the key."
Mergiliandowë huffed in a way that was supposed to make her pride infuriating yet somehow devastatingly attractive to males of all species. However, Strider seemed unmoved. Unmoved!
"Well," she began, tossing her locks around but avoiding whiplash, "if there *is* a Ring which will bring peace to Middle Earth if it's destroyed, then the logical conclusion is that *I* should handle it instead of this Ringbearer, as you so quaintly call him!"
She stamped her foot and that, as they say, was that!
Coming up next: The Ride to Rivendell and Random Acts of Randiness
If I win Barad-dûr, I'll turn it into a timeshare. All are welcome, as long as you don't mind an atmosphere of poisonous ash and smoke akin to Gary, Ind.
My language is veering from idiotic to overly flowery to mildly intelligent. I'm just writing this off the cuff. Hey, just like a Sue! It's been an interesting experience, lemme tell ya! I haven't thought it out to the end at all-- Hey, wait a minute!!!!!
And what about a very obvious plothole? Should I fill it? (*cough* Her ears! *cough*) WWSD?
When we last left our heroine, she was enthusiastically embarking on a snogfest with the lithe and leggy Prince of Mirkwood. With her new-found knowledge and strength that she was the ultimate gift to Middle Earth, did she overpower him and show him the way to heaven and back? Or did the author step in and save his enticingly grab-able Elvish butt? [I'm pulling for ya, Leggy!]
CHAPTER THREE
"Damn his chocolately brown eyes!" Mergiliandowë cursed as she strode back into the palace, her heel broken (yet not noticeably so, as her innate poise rendered any inconvenience negligible) and a genteel smudge of dirt gracing her smooth and sculpted cheek, bone structure that made accomplished sculptors weep in amazement and vow to die trying to capture her beauty. (Phew!)
"One kiss! That's all I could manage before he was whisked away! And he would have made such a handsome King of Gondor!"
As if two discoveries weren't enough - her divine fate and Legolas' obvious preference for sweaty and unshowered Rangers - her attempted frolic with the babe-o-licious Legolas has revealed that her delicately pointed ears were nothing more than tips stuck onto her human ones! What gives? How come she'd never noticed this ploy by the elfs to make her think she was actually one of them? Oh well, such things were not important when she had a kingdom to conquer, a planet to dazzle, and men to happily die for her.
She entered her chamber and signaled to her servants for a bath. Amongst the bubbles, she dreamily pondered her future, which was looking better and better. A Queen! Of Gondor! Of course they were backward yokels compared to the elfs -- not her relatives after all *sniff sniff* -- but if she had a crown and power, then Legolas would realize the error of his ways and decide that she was much better company than a stinky Ranger. A crown, a pretty wand thingy to wave around, and a rehabilitated Prince for her King!
***
"OK, I'm not mad at you for running off, Legolas. I think I can help you. In fact, I know I can. You're just confused. Even though you braid your hair, trust me - Strider doesn't notice. He already has Arwen. Don't you see? He's a good-for-nothing bounder!"
"You are correct, as usual," Legolas sighed, inwardly vowing to dash off a Dear John letter that night. "Mergiliandowë, I believe myself lost when you are not around to advise me. I sometimes forget that you are the younger in years because your wisdom rivals that of the gods. You were merely trying to heal me under the cherry tree with the selfless love you have always possessed. I was just too self-absorbed to realize it. You have my eternal thanks for putting me on a straight path." He frowned and looked so distressed that Mergiliandowë knew he was being tortured with love for her. "It's impossible to explain, but I often feel like I don't even know who I am, my moods change so. Do you ever feel like that?"
"Heavens, no!" Mergiliandowë burbled in giddy amusement, her captivating smile creating dimples that begged to be worshipped. [Did I overstep the line on that one?] "I always know what to do. I was born with everything a goddess should have."
Legolas could only gaze in unabashed adoration. When she whipped out a map with the flourish of a conquering general, her confident poise chased all thoughts of everyone being even remotely equal to her from his mind. She was all the strengths of Middle Earth, none of the weaknesses.
"Now, my plan is to ride from Mirkwood to Gondor with you and Strider. But if he starts anything funny, back he goes!"
"I swear on everything that is pure, holy, and decent - namely your sweet self - that he will not corrupt me again."
"Good! Now, once we get there, I'm going to knock on the gate, they'll let me in, and I'll win!" She clapped her hands. "Isn't it just too brilliant? Oh, I imagine there will be some resistance, but that's nothing my smile hasn't taken care of before."
"Mendwë," he whispered. "I love you! I love you with my head, my heart, and my devastating British accent!"
"Oh, Orlando!" Mergiliandowë cried, falling into his outstretched arms. Much slurping, smacking and rumpy-pumpy ensued. Starbursts and rainbows and fireworks ignited and teenage girls everywhere sighed in envy and cried at the beauty of it. And the map could now tell its friends what a butt feels like.
***
"Ho! Legolas!" came Strider's voice from outside the door.
Luckily Legolas and Mergiliandowë had managed to get dressed and thus set the plot back on its staggering course, so any embarrassment was avoided. Tempting as it was to rip Strider a new one for interrupting her, she was feeling very charitable today.
"Enter!" she cried.
Strider strode in, filthy and smelly as usual. Mergiliandowë's delicately- curved nostrils quivered in disgust. Had he *ever* taken a bath? It was nothing a bit of Sauron's Strawberry Bath Foam couldn't cure, but wrestling with a panicky dog over a washtub was not part of her divine mission.
"I come from Rivindel," he said, talking directly to Legolas.
"What news?" Legolas asked eagerly.
"ExCUSE me?" Mergiliandowë snapped. "HelLO?"
"The Ringbearer is recovering from a wound by a Morgûl blade, although for some time we feared for his life," Strider continued. "Gandalf is there as well, having escaped from the tricks of Saruman. Elrond is calling a council to decide the course we must take to save Middle Earth from destruction and bring peace to these lands forever more. Our path will not be an easy one, I fear."
"Let me get my horse and pack," Legolas said, heading towards the door, Strider behind him.
"A-HEM!"
The men turned around to see a slim figure brimming over with fires of spit. "Just what is this 'council'?" If it is supposed to save Middle Earth, I have that sewn up."
"Somehow I doubt that," Strider smirked. "Sauron the Deceiver is a foe which no one can destroy, save the one thing that makes him powerful. The ring is the key."
Mergiliandowë huffed in a way that was supposed to make her pride infuriating yet somehow devastatingly attractive to males of all species. However, Strider seemed unmoved. Unmoved!
"Well," she began, tossing her locks around but avoiding whiplash, "if there *is* a Ring which will bring peace to Middle Earth if it's destroyed, then the logical conclusion is that *I* should handle it instead of this Ringbearer, as you so quaintly call him!"
She stamped her foot and that, as they say, was that!
Coming up next: The Ride to Rivendell and Random Acts of Randiness