Chapter One: Lemons and Unconscious Elves
Based the book and movie
By The Ingénue's Shadow
"Legolas, I'm really sorry about this, but . . ."
THWACK.
The heavy rock-shaped stone landed on the head of Mela's twin brother. Legolas collapsed into a heap of frizzy Elf-mush on the soft grass. Mela pulled up his eyelids to make sure that he was knocked out. He was. He would be furious with her for giving him a lump on his head, if he woke up before it healed.
Mela dragged Legolas to the dining hall. It was never used, so nobody would find him there, but he would know where he was when he woke up. It took her a very clumsy seven and a half minutes to cram him into a large cupboard, and then she promptly pulled out some pretty rope and tied him up. She didn't really mind being this cruel; Legolas always got in her way and he probably wouldn't even know what happened. Mela would be gone by then.
She was about to turn and leave before making one last check. She had stolen some of his clothes earlier, so that was under control. They already looked identical; except for the sky-reflecting-the-ocean-blue contacts Peter Jackson made Legolas wear . . . that was what she was forgetting! Mela took Legolas's sky-reflecting-the-ocean-blue contacts out of her brother's eyes and painstakingly put them in her own. How could Legolas stand these things? Mela closed the door to the cabinet, conducted a not-so- impeccable leap onto Legolas's horse and galloped off as fast as she could.
As she rode, Mela made a neat chart in her head. She was a little bit of an organizational freak, and needed a way to inform the reader of the events which led to the most beloved member of the fellowship losing consciousness. The chart went something like this:
"I took Legolas's contacts. (Ha! Loser!) I took them because I needed to look like him. (Screw you, Peter . . . I'm the pretty twin anyways.) I needed to look like Legolas because I want to take his place in this "fellowship" thing that he's not supposed to know about yet. (Legolas doesn't read much.) I wanted to take his place in the fellowship because he was going to take Unongleal's. (Unongleal was much worthier than Legolas, so there.) Legolas took Unongleal's place in the fellowship because Unongleal died. (Unongleal was my best friend.) Unongleal died because I told him that giant spiders liked to be tickled, and if you tickled one, that they would give you three wishes. (Unongleal is a lot more gullible than I thought he was.)"
Unfortunately, the list continued all the way to Rivendell, and Mela hadn't even reached her Elven High School Prom.
To sum things up, Mela was trying to avenge her friend's death. He was about to be sent to join the Fellowship of the Ring, but died and Mela decided that it would be easy for her to trick people into believing that she was her twin brother Legolas, who was to be a part of the Fellowship in Unongleal's place. Clear? Better be.
On the third day of Mela's journey, Peter Jackson knocked her off of her horse.
"What do you think you're doing, Legolas?" he yelled.
"I'm going to Rivendell, you dolt."
"Here," he said irritably, shoving several lemons into Mela's hands. "I said I wanted you to have blonde hair, remember?"
"Um, sure," Mela muttered, "They're vegan, right?"
"What?!" Peter said, clearly irritated.
"The lemons. Are they vegan?"
"Just shut up and dye your hair!"
"Reow; fine."
That night she dyed her hair, trying to ignore the pounding inside her head that hinted suspicion towards the possibility that the lemons might contain meat and/or dairy products.
In Rivendell, Mela noted that she was given much more respect as Legolas than she was as Mela. It drove her insane. She really wanted to yell at everyone and tell them who she was, but that wouldn't even plausibly function because it was not written in the book. Grr. The one thing, however, that really bothered Mela beyond all the others, was what she had to wear. She hated Legolas' clothes. They hadn't looked that bad when he wore them, but now she was and she could see why he was cranky all of the time. Tight around the legs (something Mela had never ever worn before), tight on the arms, and with too many straps to count across her chest, holding up various objects on her back.
Approximately five minutes before Mela had hit her twin brother over the head with a stone-shaped rock, she had brutally flattened her chest. She had used pieces of old fabric and tied them as tight as she could, nearly breaking down into tears out of frustration. It was not as easy as one might think. So, naturally, the first thing Mela wanted to do when she got to Rivendell was finding out where she was sleeping and unbinding herself.
But everyone had something to say to her! Most of the things people cared about were, "How is your father?" and "Mirkwood's political state." Mela had been avoiding her father for ages, and she cared nothing for the boundaries of her land, so she just smiled and said, "All is well." She supposed that that was what people wanted to hear. It was not. They wanted details - excruciating and unknown details. To make a long story short, Mela began to invent details.
Mela could not ride a horse well, aim well, fight well, get along with people well or pretend to be brilliant well. The one trait she possessed of any mild use was the ability to create outrageous and elaborate lies. She did this often as she could, and while it is rumor that Elves die if they tell a falsehood, Mela had not (so far). She lied constantly and extravagantly, to the point where often even she forgot which tale was a lie and which was true. She didn't particularly mind, however. Mela was a pitiful romantic and preferred her lies to the truth even when the truth gave her an advantage.
Mela therefore found the council of Elrond to be quite enjoyable. She wove together an honorable story about Gollum escaping using the orcs to aid him. In this case, the truth was that she had been discussing philosophy quite intently with Unongleal when she was supposed to be guarding the creature; they could argue over things like that forever. She wasn't that upset when he snuck off, anyway. Although she never told Unongleal, Mela was downright terrified of Gollum, to the point where she would prefer to get dirty than have to look him in the eye. Mela hated getting dirty. She liked to be perfectly spotless at all times, or else a soot-on-my-dress episode was sure to occur.
Back on subject, the council fell entirely for her story about Gollum. It was so pleasing to have such a gullible audience that Mela found it difficult not to start laughing. As the book had prophesized, several weeks later Mela was chosen (as her brother) to travel as a member of the Fellowship of the Ring. She was surprised that this made her happy, but she could tell that Elrond was beginning to glance at her in a very strange way.
Besides, the hobbits were so adorable! There was Frodo, Pippin, Merry, and what was the last one's name? She should go ask one of them. Mela Elfishly glided over to Pippin and Merry and bent down.
"Good day to you," she started.
The hobbits nodded their reply (they were stuffing their faces with lembas).
"I would be terribly grateful if one of you would tell me the names of your friends. I seem to be losing track."
The halfling called Merry got a very un-hobbit-like serious look on his face, and put down the bread.
"We all get confused when it comes to those two. You see, the blonde one is Frodo Baggins, but at all costs will he refer to himself as "Sam." The dark-haired one the ring bearer, is Samwise Gamgee, but refuses to be called anything but "Frodo." In fact, they call each other by the incorrect names and other people have been doing so for years. It is very sad."
Merry shook his head dramatically. Pippin continued to chew; unaware of what had just happened. And Mela nodded her approval, "Oh."
"Lembas?" Merry offered.
"Hmm?" Mela said.
"Do you want any lembas?" Merry asked again.
"Um, can I check the ingredients?"
"The ingredients?"
"You know, to see if I can eat them. I'm a vegan."
Merry turned to Pippin. "What does that mean?" he asked.
"It means he's a hooker," Pippin responded.
"Oh," Merry said.
"I am not a hooker!" Mela said impatiently, "I'm a vegan. It means that I don't eat any animal products including meat, dairy or anything else that came from an animal."
"Lembas doesn't have any of that in it," Merry assured her.
Mela sighed. "There are different types of lembas. I need to read the ingredients to be sure."
"No," Merry said.
Mela threw her hands up in the air and gave up trying. She retired to her chambers. She was itching to get a breath out of her bindings, and knew that she would get none on the journey. She removed her boots, leggings, and vest hurriedly and began to unbutton her tunic.
She felt a finger trace itself over her bare shoulder blades from behind. Terrified of being caught, she held her tunic where she had unbuttoned it and spun around.
The most beautiful Elf Mela had ever seen was standing behind her. Her hair was dark and long; her presence as delicate and graceful as her figure, and she reminded Mela of the tale of Luthien. This Elf must have been the legendary Arwen Evenstar, descendant of Tinuviel herself!
"Estel's sword needs repairing," Arwen said softly and mysteriously, "It will take all day."
Mela then realized that her brother must somehow know Arwen, and that she must pretend that she did, also. But before she could think of anything to say, Arwen took both of her graceful hands and shoved Mela onto her bed, then followed herself. She tried to kiss Mela, but Mela rolled herself off of the bed in exasperation.
"What are you doing?" She shouted.
Arwen remained on the bed, rejected and confused. "Aragorn," she said sweetly, "He is busy today. It can be a sun-roses day."
"A sun-roses day?" Mela questioned.
"Legolas," Arwen pouted, "Why will you not make love to me?"
Mela wondered if she should tell Arwen the truth. Nah.
"To tell you the truth," she said, "I cannot stand you. I never really loved you, anyway."
"Love?" Arwen laughed, "What is this you speak of love? I thought we decided to keep this relationship strictly instructional!"
"Instructional."
"Yes, instructional. It was always you begging for me to leave Estel. Wait, was today a pop quiz? Did I do something wrong? Am I failing the course?"
"Um . . ."
"What's my grade? I need to get a passing grade or father won't let me marry Aragorn!" Arwen looked desperate.
"Um . . ."
"Legolas, tell me! I'm failing, aren't I?"
"Course over! You get an 'A'!" Mela said, hoping this would end it.
"An 'A'? Really?" Arwen switched into a girlish excitement mode.
"Um . . . that's what I said."
"Legolas . . ." the girlish excitement had faded, circled and was now back to a low, seductive tone.
"Yes?"
"Do you remember what you promised me if I got an 'A'?"
Mela silently cursed. What was she getting herself into?
"I know that we were strictly instructional," Arwen continued, "but I have always felt that you should be king of me over Estel." She then dramatically drew an invisible sword. "If you want me, come and claim me."
"I don't want you, Arwen." Mela tried to say this firmly. Arwen practically had her pinned to the wall and was unbuttoning her tunic. Her tunic! But it was too late. Arwen saw the bindings drawn taut around Mela's chest and suppressed a scream.
"Legolas . . . no . . . who are you?" She squeaked.
Mela sighed. Damn, now she would have to tell Arwen the truth. Or would she?
"I am Legolas, Arwen," she said, "My sister told me that maidens took to femmy Elves, so I got these implanted at K-Mart." That was one of Mela's worse lies. Arwen would have to be an idiot to believe it. Apparently, Arwen was an idiot.
"Oh," she said. She seemed afraid and made to leave the room.
"Wait," Mela said. As much fun as it was to create lies, Mela didn't want to ruin her brother's life.
"Yes?" Arwen said, in a cold-shoulder sort of way.
"I'm not Legolas."
Arwen turned, forgiving but interested, "Who are you?"
"My name is Mela; I am Legolas' twin sister."
"Why are you here?"
"My best friend, Unongleal and I promised one another that we would go on an adventure together. The next day, I told him as a joke that the giant spiders in Mirkwood liked to be tickled, and I was surprised when he tried it, but it killed him. Unongleal was supposed to have been a part of this fellowship, and it was my fault he died, and I wanted to fulfill our promise to one another. Once it was found out that Unongleal was dead, Legolas was told that he would be sent in Unongleal's place. I knocked out Legolas and rode here as him."
"I won't tell who you are," Arwen said, "If you promise not to tell Aragorn about what I've been doing with Legolas."
"I won't promise," Mela said, "but I won't tell." Arwen found this suitable and nodded her head. "Arwen," Mela asked carefully, "If you do not love Aragorn, then why are you going to marry him?"
"I lost a bet."
"Oh."
The fellowship was to leave the following week.
From the Diary of Legolas Greenleaf:
I woke up this morning in a cupboard. Yes, a cupboard. It took me a minute to figure out that I was in the dining room, where Mela and I used to hide from one another. Thranduil tells me that I've already left for Rivendell. I am so confused. I know this entry is two minutes after I put down the pen from the other one, but a thought just crossed my mind. What if Mela took my place? She might of . . . only why? She hates dirt! Maybe I am wrong . . . Today I set out for Rivendell. It is a long journey, and a tedious one. Maybe I should let whoever is pretending to be me, pretend to be me! Less work! Oh, but I really want to see Arwen. She is so beautiful . . . and she still is falling for the "lessons" trick. It's got to be the oldest one in the book! Oh well, as if I mind.
"Legolas, I'm really sorry about this, but . . ."
THWACK.
The heavy rock-shaped stone landed on the head of Mela's twin brother. Legolas collapsed into a heap of frizzy Elf-mush on the soft grass. Mela pulled up his eyelids to make sure that he was knocked out. He was. He would be furious with her for giving him a lump on his head, if he woke up before it healed.
Mela dragged Legolas to the dining hall. It was never used, so nobody would find him there, but he would know where he was when he woke up. It took her a very clumsy seven and a half minutes to cram him into a large cupboard, and then she promptly pulled out some pretty rope and tied him up. She didn't really mind being this cruel; Legolas always got in her way and he probably wouldn't even know what happened. Mela would be gone by then.
She was about to turn and leave before making one last check. She had stolen some of his clothes earlier, so that was under control. They already looked identical; except for the sky-reflecting-the-ocean-blue contacts Peter Jackson made Legolas wear . . . that was what she was forgetting! Mela took Legolas's sky-reflecting-the-ocean-blue contacts out of her brother's eyes and painstakingly put them in her own. How could Legolas stand these things? Mela closed the door to the cabinet, conducted a not-so- impeccable leap onto Legolas's horse and galloped off as fast as she could.
As she rode, Mela made a neat chart in her head. She was a little bit of an organizational freak, and needed a way to inform the reader of the events which led to the most beloved member of the fellowship losing consciousness. The chart went something like this:
"I took Legolas's contacts. (Ha! Loser!) I took them because I needed to look like him. (Screw you, Peter . . . I'm the pretty twin anyways.) I needed to look like Legolas because I want to take his place in this "fellowship" thing that he's not supposed to know about yet. (Legolas doesn't read much.) I wanted to take his place in the fellowship because he was going to take Unongleal's. (Unongleal was much worthier than Legolas, so there.) Legolas took Unongleal's place in the fellowship because Unongleal died. (Unongleal was my best friend.) Unongleal died because I told him that giant spiders liked to be tickled, and if you tickled one, that they would give you three wishes. (Unongleal is a lot more gullible than I thought he was.)"
Unfortunately, the list continued all the way to Rivendell, and Mela hadn't even reached her Elven High School Prom.
To sum things up, Mela was trying to avenge her friend's death. He was about to be sent to join the Fellowship of the Ring, but died and Mela decided that it would be easy for her to trick people into believing that she was her twin brother Legolas, who was to be a part of the Fellowship in Unongleal's place. Clear? Better be.
On the third day of Mela's journey, Peter Jackson knocked her off of her horse.
"What do you think you're doing, Legolas?" he yelled.
"I'm going to Rivendell, you dolt."
"Here," he said irritably, shoving several lemons into Mela's hands. "I said I wanted you to have blonde hair, remember?"
"Um, sure," Mela muttered, "They're vegan, right?"
"What?!" Peter said, clearly irritated.
"The lemons. Are they vegan?"
"Just shut up and dye your hair!"
"Reow; fine."
That night she dyed her hair, trying to ignore the pounding inside her head that hinted suspicion towards the possibility that the lemons might contain meat and/or dairy products.
In Rivendell, Mela noted that she was given much more respect as Legolas than she was as Mela. It drove her insane. She really wanted to yell at everyone and tell them who she was, but that wouldn't even plausibly function because it was not written in the book. Grr. The one thing, however, that really bothered Mela beyond all the others, was what she had to wear. She hated Legolas' clothes. They hadn't looked that bad when he wore them, but now she was and she could see why he was cranky all of the time. Tight around the legs (something Mela had never ever worn before), tight on the arms, and with too many straps to count across her chest, holding up various objects on her back.
Approximately five minutes before Mela had hit her twin brother over the head with a stone-shaped rock, she had brutally flattened her chest. She had used pieces of old fabric and tied them as tight as she could, nearly breaking down into tears out of frustration. It was not as easy as one might think. So, naturally, the first thing Mela wanted to do when she got to Rivendell was finding out where she was sleeping and unbinding herself.
But everyone had something to say to her! Most of the things people cared about were, "How is your father?" and "Mirkwood's political state." Mela had been avoiding her father for ages, and she cared nothing for the boundaries of her land, so she just smiled and said, "All is well." She supposed that that was what people wanted to hear. It was not. They wanted details - excruciating and unknown details. To make a long story short, Mela began to invent details.
Mela could not ride a horse well, aim well, fight well, get along with people well or pretend to be brilliant well. The one trait she possessed of any mild use was the ability to create outrageous and elaborate lies. She did this often as she could, and while it is rumor that Elves die if they tell a falsehood, Mela had not (so far). She lied constantly and extravagantly, to the point where often even she forgot which tale was a lie and which was true. She didn't particularly mind, however. Mela was a pitiful romantic and preferred her lies to the truth even when the truth gave her an advantage.
Mela therefore found the council of Elrond to be quite enjoyable. She wove together an honorable story about Gollum escaping using the orcs to aid him. In this case, the truth was that she had been discussing philosophy quite intently with Unongleal when she was supposed to be guarding the creature; they could argue over things like that forever. She wasn't that upset when he snuck off, anyway. Although she never told Unongleal, Mela was downright terrified of Gollum, to the point where she would prefer to get dirty than have to look him in the eye. Mela hated getting dirty. She liked to be perfectly spotless at all times, or else a soot-on-my-dress episode was sure to occur.
Back on subject, the council fell entirely for her story about Gollum. It was so pleasing to have such a gullible audience that Mela found it difficult not to start laughing. As the book had prophesized, several weeks later Mela was chosen (as her brother) to travel as a member of the Fellowship of the Ring. She was surprised that this made her happy, but she could tell that Elrond was beginning to glance at her in a very strange way.
Besides, the hobbits were so adorable! There was Frodo, Pippin, Merry, and what was the last one's name? She should go ask one of them. Mela Elfishly glided over to Pippin and Merry and bent down.
"Good day to you," she started.
The hobbits nodded their reply (they were stuffing their faces with lembas).
"I would be terribly grateful if one of you would tell me the names of your friends. I seem to be losing track."
The halfling called Merry got a very un-hobbit-like serious look on his face, and put down the bread.
"We all get confused when it comes to those two. You see, the blonde one is Frodo Baggins, but at all costs will he refer to himself as "Sam." The dark-haired one the ring bearer, is Samwise Gamgee, but refuses to be called anything but "Frodo." In fact, they call each other by the incorrect names and other people have been doing so for years. It is very sad."
Merry shook his head dramatically. Pippin continued to chew; unaware of what had just happened. And Mela nodded her approval, "Oh."
"Lembas?" Merry offered.
"Hmm?" Mela said.
"Do you want any lembas?" Merry asked again.
"Um, can I check the ingredients?"
"The ingredients?"
"You know, to see if I can eat them. I'm a vegan."
Merry turned to Pippin. "What does that mean?" he asked.
"It means he's a hooker," Pippin responded.
"Oh," Merry said.
"I am not a hooker!" Mela said impatiently, "I'm a vegan. It means that I don't eat any animal products including meat, dairy or anything else that came from an animal."
"Lembas doesn't have any of that in it," Merry assured her.
Mela sighed. "There are different types of lembas. I need to read the ingredients to be sure."
"No," Merry said.
Mela threw her hands up in the air and gave up trying. She retired to her chambers. She was itching to get a breath out of her bindings, and knew that she would get none on the journey. She removed her boots, leggings, and vest hurriedly and began to unbutton her tunic.
She felt a finger trace itself over her bare shoulder blades from behind. Terrified of being caught, she held her tunic where she had unbuttoned it and spun around.
The most beautiful Elf Mela had ever seen was standing behind her. Her hair was dark and long; her presence as delicate and graceful as her figure, and she reminded Mela of the tale of Luthien. This Elf must have been the legendary Arwen Evenstar, descendant of Tinuviel herself!
"Estel's sword needs repairing," Arwen said softly and mysteriously, "It will take all day."
Mela then realized that her brother must somehow know Arwen, and that she must pretend that she did, also. But before she could think of anything to say, Arwen took both of her graceful hands and shoved Mela onto her bed, then followed herself. She tried to kiss Mela, but Mela rolled herself off of the bed in exasperation.
"What are you doing?" She shouted.
Arwen remained on the bed, rejected and confused. "Aragorn," she said sweetly, "He is busy today. It can be a sun-roses day."
"A sun-roses day?" Mela questioned.
"Legolas," Arwen pouted, "Why will you not make love to me?"
Mela wondered if she should tell Arwen the truth. Nah.
"To tell you the truth," she said, "I cannot stand you. I never really loved you, anyway."
"Love?" Arwen laughed, "What is this you speak of love? I thought we decided to keep this relationship strictly instructional!"
"Instructional."
"Yes, instructional. It was always you begging for me to leave Estel. Wait, was today a pop quiz? Did I do something wrong? Am I failing the course?"
"Um . . ."
"What's my grade? I need to get a passing grade or father won't let me marry Aragorn!" Arwen looked desperate.
"Um . . ."
"Legolas, tell me! I'm failing, aren't I?"
"Course over! You get an 'A'!" Mela said, hoping this would end it.
"An 'A'? Really?" Arwen switched into a girlish excitement mode.
"Um . . . that's what I said."
"Legolas . . ." the girlish excitement had faded, circled and was now back to a low, seductive tone.
"Yes?"
"Do you remember what you promised me if I got an 'A'?"
Mela silently cursed. What was she getting herself into?
"I know that we were strictly instructional," Arwen continued, "but I have always felt that you should be king of me over Estel." She then dramatically drew an invisible sword. "If you want me, come and claim me."
"I don't want you, Arwen." Mela tried to say this firmly. Arwen practically had her pinned to the wall and was unbuttoning her tunic. Her tunic! But it was too late. Arwen saw the bindings drawn taut around Mela's chest and suppressed a scream.
"Legolas . . . no . . . who are you?" She squeaked.
Mela sighed. Damn, now she would have to tell Arwen the truth. Or would she?
"I am Legolas, Arwen," she said, "My sister told me that maidens took to femmy Elves, so I got these implanted at K-Mart." That was one of Mela's worse lies. Arwen would have to be an idiot to believe it. Apparently, Arwen was an idiot.
"Oh," she said. She seemed afraid and made to leave the room.
"Wait," Mela said. As much fun as it was to create lies, Mela didn't want to ruin her brother's life.
"Yes?" Arwen said, in a cold-shoulder sort of way.
"I'm not Legolas."
Arwen turned, forgiving but interested, "Who are you?"
"My name is Mela; I am Legolas' twin sister."
"Why are you here?"
"My best friend, Unongleal and I promised one another that we would go on an adventure together. The next day, I told him as a joke that the giant spiders in Mirkwood liked to be tickled, and I was surprised when he tried it, but it killed him. Unongleal was supposed to have been a part of this fellowship, and it was my fault he died, and I wanted to fulfill our promise to one another. Once it was found out that Unongleal was dead, Legolas was told that he would be sent in Unongleal's place. I knocked out Legolas and rode here as him."
"I won't tell who you are," Arwen said, "If you promise not to tell Aragorn about what I've been doing with Legolas."
"I won't promise," Mela said, "but I won't tell." Arwen found this suitable and nodded her head. "Arwen," Mela asked carefully, "If you do not love Aragorn, then why are you going to marry him?"
"I lost a bet."
"Oh."
The fellowship was to leave the following week.
From the Diary of Legolas Greenleaf:
I woke up this morning in a cupboard. Yes, a cupboard. It took me a minute to figure out that I was in the dining room, where Mela and I used to hide from one another. Thranduil tells me that I've already left for Rivendell. I am so confused. I know this entry is two minutes after I put down the pen from the other one, but a thought just crossed my mind. What if Mela took my place? She might of . . . only why? She hates dirt! Maybe I am wrong . . . Today I set out for Rivendell. It is a long journey, and a tedious one. Maybe I should let whoever is pretending to be me, pretend to be me! Less work! Oh, but I really want to see Arwen. She is so beautiful . . . and she still is falling for the "lessons" trick. It's got to be the oldest one in the book! Oh well, as if I mind.