A/N: Aw, heck! I know I'm not consiztant with my mizpellings in this ficcy
but everytime I mizpell, I fell like Im slappin my teecher right in the
face!
Disclaimer: Tolkien's. Not mine. How it hurts to say that! But if they WERE mine, Boromir wouldn't have freakin' DIED! This morning I had a dream that I was dreaming of Sean Bean doing . . . trés bizarre. I gotta lay off the A/B slash. . .
Some plot bunnies came out of hiding and attacked my ankles so I'm diving back into this. You lucky people, you! Princess Fiona was my inspiration for the orc scene. BTW, it's amazing how many different ways Rivendell has been spelled on ff.net alone. Faith 'n' begorrah!
CHAPTER FOUR
And so the three travelers made there way to Rivindel!
Strider's order to Legolas to bring enough stuff for a lengthy journey was overheard by Mergiliandowë -- no one had to prompt her to pack all her stuff!
"Two of these pack animals must go," Strider said flatly, eyeing the baggage train. "We perhaps have a long journey ahead of us after the council at Rivindel is concluded, but you will not be along for it."
Mergiliandowë felt sparks coming on in her eyes and threw him a defiant glare. Narrowing them into fearsome slits, she screwed her face up into a classic 'Don't-mess-with-me" look reminiscent of a -- Could it be? Yes, most definitely! -- constipated goblin.
"I'M GOING WITH LEGOLAS TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH, SO SHUT UP!!!!!!!"
"Aragorn, she must come along," Legolas said, coming to the pretty damsel's rescue. "We may need her counsel later on."
"Legolas, we're going to see the wisest counselor in all the land. What do we possibly need with her?"
"I have knowledge that you could not possibly comprehend!" Mergiliandowë cried indignantly, balling her fists and planting them on her hips, legs apart, chin tilted, sun advantageously positioned so that her good angles were emphasized, lessee what else? Oh, and radiating a fragile innocence combined with steely resolve. "Now, let me go with you ALL the way to the end of your journeys or suffer my wrath when I gain my power and can order you killed!"
You would think that would be the end of it, but try stopping one of her type once she's on a roll.
"I've never trusted you, MISTER Ranger, or Strider, or Aragorn, or whatever else you may call yourself. A man who prefers to walk around smelling like a stable or some moldy forest floor and has an aversion to soap just cannot be trusted, in my mind. I honestly don't know what Arwen sees in you! Or do you stoop to washing when you're with her? I'd have banished you from Rivindel long ago!"
Strider waited patiently until she had finished and then turned. "Mount up then, *princess*, and you shall get what you so richly deserve."
Mergiliandowë nodded in satisfaction and hopped onto her pure white steed, gathering the reins in her gloved hands and nudging the beast's sides. As she passed Strider, she stuck out her pert, pointed and rosy tongue (built for Elvish ear-swirling) and started down the road to Rivindell.
***
The birds were singing in the forest and Mergiliandowë couldn't resist the temptation to join them. Several even flew to her outstretched hands and she trilled like an etherial mistress of the moonlight. When one reached up and kissed her cheek with its beak, the laugh from her throat was like the pealing of silver bells.
"Stop that racket!" Strider growled irritably. "If you posses such wisdom, you will know that a forest provides the enemy with many advantages. But if you want them to come, by all means keep singing."
"That I will!" Mergiliandowë snapped. Strider had made a good point, but she would never back down in front of him. Never! For the hope of Middle Earth to give in to a smelly Ranger with no future? Ridiculous! While he skinned squirrels for the rest of his life, she'd be sitting on a throne and enjoying the worship of a kingdom. No, a world!
Strider cursed when there was a bone-chilling wail from the underbrush and several orcs burst forth. His horse reeled in surprise and he jumped off, sword already drawn. Legolas was also on his feet, bow at the ready. Unfortunately his arrow flew wide and instead impaled a tree. He did not have time to notch another arrow before one attacker, wielding a lumpy club, smashed the blond warrior on the side of the head. He crumpled in a helpless heap, the orc standing over him with fangs dripping in battle rage.
"Hiiiiiiiiii-yah!"
While Strider fended off three orcs with the remaining shreds of his strength, Mergiliandowë effortlessly launched herself at the orc ready to end the life of Legolas. Her foot slammed into the creature's chest and propelled it backwards into the same tree where Legolas' arrow still quivered. It ran through the orc's body, black blood spraying from the hole in its chest.
She twirled and twisted away from the foul-smelling shower and flew to Strider whose sword was screeching and wailing as it scraped against the combined strength of three orc blades. Grasping his shoulders, she ran up his back and launched herself from him directly onto the startled orcs. Once upon them, her fists flew with such fury they became a ribbon through the air. Orc heads knocked together, teeth sprayed out of gaping mouths and curses in the dark tongue of Mordor carried through the wilderness.
Within seconds, the menace was defeated and Mergiliandowë brushed off the unsightly smudge of dirt on her hem. "You dolts!" she cried at the prone orcs as she inspected the material. "You pulled out a thread!" She kicked the nearest orc in the side and felt a bit of satisfaction when it groaned. So for good measure she kicked again. "Don't do it again!" Kick. "I mean it!" A couple kicks. "And tell your friends, too!"
Strider was pulling himself up off the ground and grabbed his sword from where it lay. "Princess, I'm sorry for my heartless, unfeeling words earlier. I see that your singing did serve a good purpose. You were able to prove your worth and I am no longer blind to it. We certainly would benefit if you were in our company, wherever our quest may lead us."
Ha! she thought. She wanted to gloat, but it wouldn't be queenly, would it? "You are quite welcome, Strider, and I hope that you will be my right arm, so to speak, on my own quest. I'm sure there will other enemies lesser than orcs that you'll be able to handle."
Legolas groaned and Mergiliandowë gave a cry of alarm and ran over to him. "Leggy precious! Speak to me!"
"Oof!"
She knelt beside him, not caring if her dress got dirty. Legolas needed to be kissed and made better and darned if she was going to let any dirt stop her!
Cradling his head in her lap, she covered his face in kisses and let her hands run all over him in an effort to ease the pain in his head. It seemed to work because he stirred, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and his pained expression melted under her healing.
"Strider, would you go off and get some firewood now?" she asked sweetly.
Tune in later for the next chapter! Our heroine is in for a bunch of surprises in Rivendell. Ri-ven-dell. RIVENDELL. (Man, I can't emphasize that enough!)
Disclaimer: Tolkien's. Not mine. How it hurts to say that! But if they WERE mine, Boromir wouldn't have freakin' DIED! This morning I had a dream that I was dreaming of Sean Bean doing . . . trés bizarre. I gotta lay off the A/B slash. . .
Some plot bunnies came out of hiding and attacked my ankles so I'm diving back into this. You lucky people, you! Princess Fiona was my inspiration for the orc scene. BTW, it's amazing how many different ways Rivendell has been spelled on ff.net alone. Faith 'n' begorrah!
CHAPTER FOUR
And so the three travelers made there way to Rivindel!
Strider's order to Legolas to bring enough stuff for a lengthy journey was overheard by Mergiliandowë -- no one had to prompt her to pack all her stuff!
"Two of these pack animals must go," Strider said flatly, eyeing the baggage train. "We perhaps have a long journey ahead of us after the council at Rivindel is concluded, but you will not be along for it."
Mergiliandowë felt sparks coming on in her eyes and threw him a defiant glare. Narrowing them into fearsome slits, she screwed her face up into a classic 'Don't-mess-with-me" look reminiscent of a -- Could it be? Yes, most definitely! -- constipated goblin.
"I'M GOING WITH LEGOLAS TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH, SO SHUT UP!!!!!!!"
"Aragorn, she must come along," Legolas said, coming to the pretty damsel's rescue. "We may need her counsel later on."
"Legolas, we're going to see the wisest counselor in all the land. What do we possibly need with her?"
"I have knowledge that you could not possibly comprehend!" Mergiliandowë cried indignantly, balling her fists and planting them on her hips, legs apart, chin tilted, sun advantageously positioned so that her good angles were emphasized, lessee what else? Oh, and radiating a fragile innocence combined with steely resolve. "Now, let me go with you ALL the way to the end of your journeys or suffer my wrath when I gain my power and can order you killed!"
You would think that would be the end of it, but try stopping one of her type once she's on a roll.
"I've never trusted you, MISTER Ranger, or Strider, or Aragorn, or whatever else you may call yourself. A man who prefers to walk around smelling like a stable or some moldy forest floor and has an aversion to soap just cannot be trusted, in my mind. I honestly don't know what Arwen sees in you! Or do you stoop to washing when you're with her? I'd have banished you from Rivindel long ago!"
Strider waited patiently until she had finished and then turned. "Mount up then, *princess*, and you shall get what you so richly deserve."
Mergiliandowë nodded in satisfaction and hopped onto her pure white steed, gathering the reins in her gloved hands and nudging the beast's sides. As she passed Strider, she stuck out her pert, pointed and rosy tongue (built for Elvish ear-swirling) and started down the road to Rivindell.
***
The birds were singing in the forest and Mergiliandowë couldn't resist the temptation to join them. Several even flew to her outstretched hands and she trilled like an etherial mistress of the moonlight. When one reached up and kissed her cheek with its beak, the laugh from her throat was like the pealing of silver bells.
"Stop that racket!" Strider growled irritably. "If you posses such wisdom, you will know that a forest provides the enemy with many advantages. But if you want them to come, by all means keep singing."
"That I will!" Mergiliandowë snapped. Strider had made a good point, but she would never back down in front of him. Never! For the hope of Middle Earth to give in to a smelly Ranger with no future? Ridiculous! While he skinned squirrels for the rest of his life, she'd be sitting on a throne and enjoying the worship of a kingdom. No, a world!
Strider cursed when there was a bone-chilling wail from the underbrush and several orcs burst forth. His horse reeled in surprise and he jumped off, sword already drawn. Legolas was also on his feet, bow at the ready. Unfortunately his arrow flew wide and instead impaled a tree. He did not have time to notch another arrow before one attacker, wielding a lumpy club, smashed the blond warrior on the side of the head. He crumpled in a helpless heap, the orc standing over him with fangs dripping in battle rage.
"Hiiiiiiiiii-yah!"
While Strider fended off three orcs with the remaining shreds of his strength, Mergiliandowë effortlessly launched herself at the orc ready to end the life of Legolas. Her foot slammed into the creature's chest and propelled it backwards into the same tree where Legolas' arrow still quivered. It ran through the orc's body, black blood spraying from the hole in its chest.
She twirled and twisted away from the foul-smelling shower and flew to Strider whose sword was screeching and wailing as it scraped against the combined strength of three orc blades. Grasping his shoulders, she ran up his back and launched herself from him directly onto the startled orcs. Once upon them, her fists flew with such fury they became a ribbon through the air. Orc heads knocked together, teeth sprayed out of gaping mouths and curses in the dark tongue of Mordor carried through the wilderness.
Within seconds, the menace was defeated and Mergiliandowë brushed off the unsightly smudge of dirt on her hem. "You dolts!" she cried at the prone orcs as she inspected the material. "You pulled out a thread!" She kicked the nearest orc in the side and felt a bit of satisfaction when it groaned. So for good measure she kicked again. "Don't do it again!" Kick. "I mean it!" A couple kicks. "And tell your friends, too!"
Strider was pulling himself up off the ground and grabbed his sword from where it lay. "Princess, I'm sorry for my heartless, unfeeling words earlier. I see that your singing did serve a good purpose. You were able to prove your worth and I am no longer blind to it. We certainly would benefit if you were in our company, wherever our quest may lead us."
Ha! she thought. She wanted to gloat, but it wouldn't be queenly, would it? "You are quite welcome, Strider, and I hope that you will be my right arm, so to speak, on my own quest. I'm sure there will other enemies lesser than orcs that you'll be able to handle."
Legolas groaned and Mergiliandowë gave a cry of alarm and ran over to him. "Leggy precious! Speak to me!"
"Oof!"
She knelt beside him, not caring if her dress got dirty. Legolas needed to be kissed and made better and darned if she was going to let any dirt stop her!
Cradling his head in her lap, she covered his face in kisses and let her hands run all over him in an effort to ease the pain in his head. It seemed to work because he stirred, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and his pained expression melted under her healing.
"Strider, would you go off and get some firewood now?" she asked sweetly.
Tune in later for the next chapter! Our heroine is in for a bunch of surprises in Rivendell. Ri-ven-dell. RIVENDELL. (Man, I can't emphasize that enough!)