Chapter 7: It is a Crime Against Humanity to Give a Mary-Sue a Love Potion
By The Ingénue's Shadow
Based on the Book and the Movie
A nerve was racking itself through Mela's body. She paced wildly, occasionally running into insignificant objects, such as Frodo (who she thought was called Sam), or a wall. Having counted each mile as it passed, Mela knew that she was exactly 498.23 miles away from the closest REE outlet, and that going back would mean the loss of control over that stupid, stupid prophesy. But she didn't exactly trust fate . . .
"Soy Mocha," Mela subconsciously whimpered, shoving another fistful of tic-tacs into her mouth. Sam and Frodo, through combined efforts, had managed to get her down to three dozen boxes a day, but with the newly refreshed desire to shop, their work might have been a waste.
"Frodo . . ." said Sam, worriedly, ". . . she's talking to herself again . . ."
"Maybe if we ignore her, she'll go away," Frodo whispered back.
"Nuh-uh; we tried that yesterday, remember? She went up to that orc and tried asking him where the nearest Old Navy was. She's dangerous when left alone."
"Damn," Frodo said, for about the fifth time that day.
"So . . . any ideas?"
"None."
"Me neither. Wait! This afternoon, I have to quick jet back to Osgiliath to grab supplies for tonight's NES. Another cooking show! Mela can come with me, and she can go look in the mall while I grab food. That ought to keep her sane until we destroy the ring!"
"You're a genius, Sam!" Frodo exclaimed, mostly happy that he would get a few Mela-free hours, "Actually, why don't you two leave now?"
"Uh, okay," Sam said, "Mela! Hey, Mela!"
Mela spun around, shaking. "Abercrombie?" she said, dazed.
"No, I'm Sam," Sam slowly corrected, "Look, I'm going to get food for tonight's NES show, and I was wondering if you wanted to go shopping at the same time." Sam chose these words carefully, unsure what the reaction would be.
"Sh . . . sh . . . shopping?" Mela asked, childishly excited. Her whole head quivered.
"Um, yeah," Sam was starting to feel scared now.
"Agajedebe, oshumana, ishkano, oshumanaysgedashm!" Mela squeaked excitedly, "Oooooooooooooooh!" And she brought a hand up to her face and tapped her mouth and cheeks, then took the same hand and flipped her hair out of her face.
Sam and Frodo looked at each other, each seriously considering running for their lives. Mela suddenly gave a tight hug to an extremely afraid Sam.
"Just give me one second!" she shouted, hurrying off, "I need to beautify!"
"Beautify?" Frodo and Sam said at the same time in horror.
It did not take Mela "one second" to beautify. It took the best part of an hour, to say the very least. When Mela emerged, it looked as if she had done absolutely nothing, to Frodo and Sam; she did not look different in the least. The one change made was that on her arm was something she explained to them was a "handbag."
"Okay, then," Sam said, and gave Mela some green dust, "Just hold this frying pan in front of you, sprinkle the foo powder on it, yell "Osgiliath Mall!" then hit yourself on the head with the frying pan. Got it?"
"Got it," said Mela excitedly. She threw the dust on the frying pan, yelled "Osgiliath Mall!" at the top of her lungs, and hit herself hard on the head with it. She felt a strange tugging sensation from somewhere behind her navel, and opened her eyes to see that she was spinning around so fast that frying pans seemed to be flying past her in all sorts of weird shapes. Square ones, deep frying pans, double boilers . . . the works.
And then Mela landed with a thud in the Osgiliath Shopping Center.
Sam fell beside her, a little woozy, the next moment. "Alright," he said, "Now, I'm going to go shopping for food while you shop for . . . um . . . whatever it is you shop for."
"Clothes!" Mela excitedly interrupted.
"Right," said Sam, "and I'll meet you back here in about an hour. Alright?"
Mela looked dumbfounded. "An hour?" she stuttered. "I can't shop in an *hour.*"
"Well how much time do you need then?" said Sam, slightly irritated.
"Um," Mela put her finger up to her chin in thought, "approximately six hours."
"SIX HOURS?" Sam could not believe his ears. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN, SIX HOURS?"
"Uh, six hours?" said Mela. Whom-she-still-thought-was-called-Frodo could be such an idiot.
Sam thought for a moment. Eventually he decided to take her shopping for food *with* him, then he'd be able to moderate and limit her shopping elsewhere. Sam proposed the idea, and Mela excepted.
FIRST STOP: THE OSGILIATH FOOD CENTER
Sam grabs a shopping cart (don't worry it's made out of wood).
Mela and Sam enter the shopping center.
Sam puts his first item in the cart: trout. Mela scowls.
Mela, purely to spite Sam's choice of food, grabs some tofu and puts that in the cart.
Irritated, Sam continues his shopping. Tomatoes, Bread, and Lemons are added.
Mela continues her own shopping. Soy Delicious Peanut Butter Fudge Ice Cream, Tropical Source Non-Dairy Chocolate Chips, and Mushroom Ramen are all added as well.
Sam picks out more foo powder.
Mela takes a bite out of Sam's Tomato.
Sam picks out a new tomato.
Sam selects some lettuce.
Sam puts back the vegan chocolate chips, the vegan ice cream, and the vegan ramen.
Sam realizes that Mela has disappeared and finds her lecturing a terrified-looking teenage sales clerk about the necessity of "natural foods."
Sam pays for the food and drags Mela away from the sales clerk, kicking and screaming "Animal killer! Animal killer! Fuzzy little animal killer!"
Sam and Mela haphazardly exit the store.
SECOND STOP: THE MALL
Mela drags Sam into Abercrombie and Fitch. She buys nothing.
Mela drags Sam into American Eagle. She tries on three shirts and two pairs of jeans, then purchases four shirts, one pair of jeans, and a thong, which Sam makes the cross sign at.
Sam is holding the bag from American Eagle.
Mela drags Sam into Hollister and Company. She examines fifty-three items, tries on a total of twelve, and purchases two pairs of sweat pants and nine tank tops.
Sam is holding the bag from American Eagle and the bag from Hollister.
Mela drags Sam into Express, and looks longingly at all of the items there before manically writing out a check for three identical red one- strapers.
Sam is holding the bag from American Eagle, the bag from Hollister, and shifting around the bag from Express, unsure how to best situate it.
Mela drags Sam into Bath and Body Works. She uses his skin to try all of the lotions on and eventually decides that she doesn't like any of them.
Sam is holding the bag from American Eagle, the bag form Hollister, and the bag from Express (in his teeth), and trying to avoid breathing in one of the lotions that has made him a human perfume sample.
Mela drags Sam into the Limited. She tries on seven blouses, a pair of jeans, and a lacy black bra. Sam glowers, but Mela chooses to exercise her right to purchase everything she tried on, and does.
Sam is holding the bag from American Eagle, the bag from Hollister, and the bag from Express (around his neck), trying to avoid breathing in the lotions, and holding the bag from the Limited.
Mela realizes that she is done. In a panic of wanting more, she rushes back to American Eagle, buys the other pair of pants she tried on, and randomly blows sixty dollars on an ECKO sweatshirt. Navy blue, with red letters.
Sam, weighed down by mixed lotions, five bags, and his grocery bags, drags Mela into Sears and down into the basement ("But I'm out of Clinique mascara!" cries Mela). He throws some foo powder onto a display frying pan and hits Mela {very hard} over the head with it. She disappears. Sam does the same for himself and joins Mela back at their campsite. Thus ends the episode at the mall, and present tense.
That night, the NES show was a fiasco. It began with Mela not being able to find a place to sit (in desperation of wanting to wear everything she bought, Mela simply layered it all) with all of her newfound bulk, and once she had, the poem.
"'I Hate the Mall,' by Mas Eegmag," Sam said, in title to the poem. Mela looked scandalized.
"I hate the mall.
Torture is all it brings to my heart
As I am weighed down by perfumes and clothes?
I hate the mall.
One day I'll be rich
And I'll bulldoze them all down
And then, I'll smile.
A great, wide smile showing all of my teeth,
None of which will fear the hazards of shopping.
I hate the mall with all my soul
It makes me cry, and sigh,
The mall is evil, and I hate it.
I hate the mall."
"Thank you," Sam said, with real tears rolling down his cheeks and an abused expression resting on his face. He choked it up and said, "Now, for our next NES presentation, I will be doing a sculpture using *this*" Sam pulled a sheet down, revealing an ugly, but massive lump of clay the size of an oliphant, "piece of clay. Smeagol!"
Gollum stepped out from behind the curtain and struck up a slow, mournful tune with a fiddle as Mela shrieked and jumped back. She backed herself against the wall and cowered there as Gollum played. Sam began to sculpt.
It was hideously boring, watching someone sculpt, but it was all there was to do. Mela was also occupied by keeping a strict eye on Gollum, who kept winking at her. She nearly vomited in disgust. Finally Sam was done.
"Ta-da!" He said, proud of himself.
"Ooooooh!" Mela said, rushing forward. It was a gorgeous, life-size Honda Civic. Mela hurtled herself against it and hugged it. Sam beamed.
"Want to go for a spin?" he said in a horrible attempt to be suave.
"Who'll drive? I don't have my license and you're, like, ten years old or something!" Mela said sadly.
"Am not!" Sam said. He reached into his pocket before Mela could say "are too!" and pulled out his wallet, opened it up and showed Mela his driver's license. "See?" he said, "I'm fifty-seven!"
But Mela was not looking at Sam's birth date. She was looking at his picture. "You . . ." she stuttered, "you . . . you're . . . you're really 'Sam.'"
"Duh! I've been telling you that for the last, what? Half-year?"
"You . . . he . . . Frodo?" Mela whispered, looking between them. Frodo reached for his own license, but there was no need. Mela dropped to the floor of the stage in a dead faint, her head hitting and breaking off the car's side mirror on the way down.
"Mela . . . Mela . . ." Mela heard voices calling her name but it was a moment before she came to the realization that they were real people.
"Do you think she's dead?" she heard Frodo - no, he's Sam! No, Frodo? say.
"Look, she's blinking . . ." that must be the other one.
"I think she's dead. Let's bury her."
"Naw, see her stomach? It's rising and falling. She's breathing."
"Please can we bury her?"
"She'd kill us."
"Good point."
"What?" Mela muttered, coming to.
"Nothing," said the hobbits in unison.
Mela sat up and remembered why she had fainted.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
Sam sighed. "Mind you, this is the last time, got it? I'm Sam, and he's Frodo."
"Right," said Mela, but actually meaning it this time. At least Frodo was a little bit cuter than whom she had thought was Frodo. That had to be worth something . . .
"Can I continue the show?" Sam asked, irritated.
"Mmhmm," Mela mumbled and sat back in her chair, feeling more stupid than she had ever felt in her life, and wondering when the next time she would be able to slaughter Merry would be. Maybe his real name was Pippin . . .
"For the next and final portion of tonight's NES, I will be leading a cooking show. We will be cooking Sizzlefish."
"Um, excuse me?" Mela said, raising her hand straight in the air and regaining her venom.
"Yes?" Sam sighed.
"I have ethical objections to your choice in food," Mela said, "Can you cook something of a more desirable nature?"
"No," Sam glared. "Now be quiet!"
Mela raised her eyebrows. "I think I will refuse to be spoken to in that manner," she said, "I'm leaving!"
Sam looked slightly happier, but Mela left anyway. The nerve of him, thinking he could cook 'Sizzlefish' for a vegan! Mela scoffed in such a manner all the way back to her makeshift tent.
The first thing that met her eyes was something that she had not looked at in weeks. It was Galadriel's love potion.
Mela did not need to be told what to do next. She snatched up the bottle of love potion, took a pinch out, and crept back to the NES. Holding her nose as to not breathe in fish, Mela snuck around to the plates. One was gold covered and one was plain white. It didn't take Mela any time at all to figure out which one Frodo's was.
She hid the love potion in a cookie (first speaking to it her full name) and placed the cookie on Frodo's plate. Simple, yes, but remember how thick hobbits are.
Five minutes later, Mela was smugly sitting next to Frodo, who for some reason could not keep his eyes off her.
From the Diary of Legolas Greanleaf:
She messed up my line! Mela *%#!ing messed up my line! "*Crows* from *Dubland*?" I could cry!! Everyone knows that it's *crebain*, and *Dunland*! Aaaagh! The little snotrag has absolutely no idea WHY father likes me best, but continues to run around as if she can slaughter the hero I'll be made someday for taking part of this quest! Worse yet, I can't even do anything about it, because Arwen says that she knows about us, and Aragorn will cut me into little pieces with his sword and cook me in his microwave if he finds out! I don't know if I'm going through more Kleenexes or tic-tacs . . .
This is so weird. Everyone seems particularly cautious of me, for some reason. If I get within five feet of the dwarf, he yells, "keep your paws off my mousse!" and runs away. If I approach the Dunadan, he gets extremely self-conscious and goes off to join the dwarf. I'm supposed to be the pretty one, the heart-throb, the one everyone favors. Why am I being shunted away? Mela will pay for her adventure.
Wow. Apparently Gandalf the Grey died or something, because everyone was all happy today when they saw him. He kinda snuck up on us, we were on this huge rock and he was darting behind the trees below it. And he knew my name. Creepy.
I don't need to get Mela back, because the wizard says he will do it for me. He was really pissed off when he found out what she did, and he says that he will cast an anti-blindness spell upon the hobbits she is traveling with, to make them see whatever secrets she stores. I'll bet they don't know that she's, well, a she! I'll bet that they think they're with me! Then they'll see her for what she truly is, and how she is deceiving them. It will all work very well. I am very happy today. So happy, in fact, that I sent a postcard to Arwen. She says she'll try to meet us in Edoras. I can't wait.
A nerve was racking itself through Mela's body. She paced wildly, occasionally running into insignificant objects, such as Frodo (who she thought was called Sam), or a wall. Having counted each mile as it passed, Mela knew that she was exactly 498.23 miles away from the closest REE outlet, and that going back would mean the loss of control over that stupid, stupid prophesy. But she didn't exactly trust fate . . .
"Soy Mocha," Mela subconsciously whimpered, shoving another fistful of tic-tacs into her mouth. Sam and Frodo, through combined efforts, had managed to get her down to three dozen boxes a day, but with the newly refreshed desire to shop, their work might have been a waste.
"Frodo . . ." said Sam, worriedly, ". . . she's talking to herself again . . ."
"Maybe if we ignore her, she'll go away," Frodo whispered back.
"Nuh-uh; we tried that yesterday, remember? She went up to that orc and tried asking him where the nearest Old Navy was. She's dangerous when left alone."
"Damn," Frodo said, for about the fifth time that day.
"So . . . any ideas?"
"None."
"Me neither. Wait! This afternoon, I have to quick jet back to Osgiliath to grab supplies for tonight's NES. Another cooking show! Mela can come with me, and she can go look in the mall while I grab food. That ought to keep her sane until we destroy the ring!"
"You're a genius, Sam!" Frodo exclaimed, mostly happy that he would get a few Mela-free hours, "Actually, why don't you two leave now?"
"Uh, okay," Sam said, "Mela! Hey, Mela!"
Mela spun around, shaking. "Abercrombie?" she said, dazed.
"No, I'm Sam," Sam slowly corrected, "Look, I'm going to get food for tonight's NES show, and I was wondering if you wanted to go shopping at the same time." Sam chose these words carefully, unsure what the reaction would be.
"Sh . . . sh . . . shopping?" Mela asked, childishly excited. Her whole head quivered.
"Um, yeah," Sam was starting to feel scared now.
"Agajedebe, oshumana, ishkano, oshumanaysgedashm!" Mela squeaked excitedly, "Oooooooooooooooh!" And she brought a hand up to her face and tapped her mouth and cheeks, then took the same hand and flipped her hair out of her face.
Sam and Frodo looked at each other, each seriously considering running for their lives. Mela suddenly gave a tight hug to an extremely afraid Sam.
"Just give me one second!" she shouted, hurrying off, "I need to beautify!"
"Beautify?" Frodo and Sam said at the same time in horror.
It did not take Mela "one second" to beautify. It took the best part of an hour, to say the very least. When Mela emerged, it looked as if she had done absolutely nothing, to Frodo and Sam; she did not look different in the least. The one change made was that on her arm was something she explained to them was a "handbag."
"Okay, then," Sam said, and gave Mela some green dust, "Just hold this frying pan in front of you, sprinkle the foo powder on it, yell "Osgiliath Mall!" then hit yourself on the head with the frying pan. Got it?"
"Got it," said Mela excitedly. She threw the dust on the frying pan, yelled "Osgiliath Mall!" at the top of her lungs, and hit herself hard on the head with it. She felt a strange tugging sensation from somewhere behind her navel, and opened her eyes to see that she was spinning around so fast that frying pans seemed to be flying past her in all sorts of weird shapes. Square ones, deep frying pans, double boilers . . . the works.
And then Mela landed with a thud in the Osgiliath Shopping Center.
Sam fell beside her, a little woozy, the next moment. "Alright," he said, "Now, I'm going to go shopping for food while you shop for . . . um . . . whatever it is you shop for."
"Clothes!" Mela excitedly interrupted.
"Right," said Sam, "and I'll meet you back here in about an hour. Alright?"
Mela looked dumbfounded. "An hour?" she stuttered. "I can't shop in an *hour.*"
"Well how much time do you need then?" said Sam, slightly irritated.
"Um," Mela put her finger up to her chin in thought, "approximately six hours."
"SIX HOURS?" Sam could not believe his ears. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN, SIX HOURS?"
"Uh, six hours?" said Mela. Whom-she-still-thought-was-called-Frodo could be such an idiot.
Sam thought for a moment. Eventually he decided to take her shopping for food *with* him, then he'd be able to moderate and limit her shopping elsewhere. Sam proposed the idea, and Mela excepted.
FIRST STOP: THE OSGILIATH FOOD CENTER
Sam grabs a shopping cart (don't worry it's made out of wood).
Mela and Sam enter the shopping center.
Sam puts his first item in the cart: trout. Mela scowls.
Mela, purely to spite Sam's choice of food, grabs some tofu and puts that in the cart.
Irritated, Sam continues his shopping. Tomatoes, Bread, and Lemons are added.
Mela continues her own shopping. Soy Delicious Peanut Butter Fudge Ice Cream, Tropical Source Non-Dairy Chocolate Chips, and Mushroom Ramen are all added as well.
Sam picks out more foo powder.
Mela takes a bite out of Sam's Tomato.
Sam picks out a new tomato.
Sam selects some lettuce.
Sam puts back the vegan chocolate chips, the vegan ice cream, and the vegan ramen.
Sam realizes that Mela has disappeared and finds her lecturing a terrified-looking teenage sales clerk about the necessity of "natural foods."
Sam pays for the food and drags Mela away from the sales clerk, kicking and screaming "Animal killer! Animal killer! Fuzzy little animal killer!"
Sam and Mela haphazardly exit the store.
SECOND STOP: THE MALL
Mela drags Sam into Abercrombie and Fitch. She buys nothing.
Mela drags Sam into American Eagle. She tries on three shirts and two pairs of jeans, then purchases four shirts, one pair of jeans, and a thong, which Sam makes the cross sign at.
Sam is holding the bag from American Eagle.
Mela drags Sam into Hollister and Company. She examines fifty-three items, tries on a total of twelve, and purchases two pairs of sweat pants and nine tank tops.
Sam is holding the bag from American Eagle and the bag from Hollister.
Mela drags Sam into Express, and looks longingly at all of the items there before manically writing out a check for three identical red one- strapers.
Sam is holding the bag from American Eagle, the bag from Hollister, and shifting around the bag from Express, unsure how to best situate it.
Mela drags Sam into Bath and Body Works. She uses his skin to try all of the lotions on and eventually decides that she doesn't like any of them.
Sam is holding the bag from American Eagle, the bag form Hollister, and the bag from Express (in his teeth), and trying to avoid breathing in one of the lotions that has made him a human perfume sample.
Mela drags Sam into the Limited. She tries on seven blouses, a pair of jeans, and a lacy black bra. Sam glowers, but Mela chooses to exercise her right to purchase everything she tried on, and does.
Sam is holding the bag from American Eagle, the bag from Hollister, and the bag from Express (around his neck), trying to avoid breathing in the lotions, and holding the bag from the Limited.
Mela realizes that she is done. In a panic of wanting more, she rushes back to American Eagle, buys the other pair of pants she tried on, and randomly blows sixty dollars on an ECKO sweatshirt. Navy blue, with red letters.
Sam, weighed down by mixed lotions, five bags, and his grocery bags, drags Mela into Sears and down into the basement ("But I'm out of Clinique mascara!" cries Mela). He throws some foo powder onto a display frying pan and hits Mela {very hard} over the head with it. She disappears. Sam does the same for himself and joins Mela back at their campsite. Thus ends the episode at the mall, and present tense.
That night, the NES show was a fiasco. It began with Mela not being able to find a place to sit (in desperation of wanting to wear everything she bought, Mela simply layered it all) with all of her newfound bulk, and once she had, the poem.
"'I Hate the Mall,' by Mas Eegmag," Sam said, in title to the poem. Mela looked scandalized.
"I hate the mall.
Torture is all it brings to my heart
As I am weighed down by perfumes and clothes?
I hate the mall.
One day I'll be rich
And I'll bulldoze them all down
And then, I'll smile.
A great, wide smile showing all of my teeth,
None of which will fear the hazards of shopping.
I hate the mall with all my soul
It makes me cry, and sigh,
The mall is evil, and I hate it.
I hate the mall."
"Thank you," Sam said, with real tears rolling down his cheeks and an abused expression resting on his face. He choked it up and said, "Now, for our next NES presentation, I will be doing a sculpture using *this*" Sam pulled a sheet down, revealing an ugly, but massive lump of clay the size of an oliphant, "piece of clay. Smeagol!"
Gollum stepped out from behind the curtain and struck up a slow, mournful tune with a fiddle as Mela shrieked and jumped back. She backed herself against the wall and cowered there as Gollum played. Sam began to sculpt.
It was hideously boring, watching someone sculpt, but it was all there was to do. Mela was also occupied by keeping a strict eye on Gollum, who kept winking at her. She nearly vomited in disgust. Finally Sam was done.
"Ta-da!" He said, proud of himself.
"Ooooooh!" Mela said, rushing forward. It was a gorgeous, life-size Honda Civic. Mela hurtled herself against it and hugged it. Sam beamed.
"Want to go for a spin?" he said in a horrible attempt to be suave.
"Who'll drive? I don't have my license and you're, like, ten years old or something!" Mela said sadly.
"Am not!" Sam said. He reached into his pocket before Mela could say "are too!" and pulled out his wallet, opened it up and showed Mela his driver's license. "See?" he said, "I'm fifty-seven!"
But Mela was not looking at Sam's birth date. She was looking at his picture. "You . . ." she stuttered, "you . . . you're . . . you're really 'Sam.'"
"Duh! I've been telling you that for the last, what? Half-year?"
"You . . . he . . . Frodo?" Mela whispered, looking between them. Frodo reached for his own license, but there was no need. Mela dropped to the floor of the stage in a dead faint, her head hitting and breaking off the car's side mirror on the way down.
"Mela . . . Mela . . ." Mela heard voices calling her name but it was a moment before she came to the realization that they were real people.
"Do you think she's dead?" she heard Frodo - no, he's Sam! No, Frodo? say.
"Look, she's blinking . . ." that must be the other one.
"I think she's dead. Let's bury her."
"Naw, see her stomach? It's rising and falling. She's breathing."
"Please can we bury her?"
"She'd kill us."
"Good point."
"What?" Mela muttered, coming to.
"Nothing," said the hobbits in unison.
Mela sat up and remembered why she had fainted.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
Sam sighed. "Mind you, this is the last time, got it? I'm Sam, and he's Frodo."
"Right," said Mela, but actually meaning it this time. At least Frodo was a little bit cuter than whom she had thought was Frodo. That had to be worth something . . .
"Can I continue the show?" Sam asked, irritated.
"Mmhmm," Mela mumbled and sat back in her chair, feeling more stupid than she had ever felt in her life, and wondering when the next time she would be able to slaughter Merry would be. Maybe his real name was Pippin . . .
"For the next and final portion of tonight's NES, I will be leading a cooking show. We will be cooking Sizzlefish."
"Um, excuse me?" Mela said, raising her hand straight in the air and regaining her venom.
"Yes?" Sam sighed.
"I have ethical objections to your choice in food," Mela said, "Can you cook something of a more desirable nature?"
"No," Sam glared. "Now be quiet!"
Mela raised her eyebrows. "I think I will refuse to be spoken to in that manner," she said, "I'm leaving!"
Sam looked slightly happier, but Mela left anyway. The nerve of him, thinking he could cook 'Sizzlefish' for a vegan! Mela scoffed in such a manner all the way back to her makeshift tent.
The first thing that met her eyes was something that she had not looked at in weeks. It was Galadriel's love potion.
Mela did not need to be told what to do next. She snatched up the bottle of love potion, took a pinch out, and crept back to the NES. Holding her nose as to not breathe in fish, Mela snuck around to the plates. One was gold covered and one was plain white. It didn't take Mela any time at all to figure out which one Frodo's was.
She hid the love potion in a cookie (first speaking to it her full name) and placed the cookie on Frodo's plate. Simple, yes, but remember how thick hobbits are.
Five minutes later, Mela was smugly sitting next to Frodo, who for some reason could not keep his eyes off her.
From the Diary of Legolas Greanleaf:
She messed up my line! Mela *%#!ing messed up my line! "*Crows* from *Dubland*?" I could cry!! Everyone knows that it's *crebain*, and *Dunland*! Aaaagh! The little snotrag has absolutely no idea WHY father likes me best, but continues to run around as if she can slaughter the hero I'll be made someday for taking part of this quest! Worse yet, I can't even do anything about it, because Arwen says that she knows about us, and Aragorn will cut me into little pieces with his sword and cook me in his microwave if he finds out! I don't know if I'm going through more Kleenexes or tic-tacs . . .
This is so weird. Everyone seems particularly cautious of me, for some reason. If I get within five feet of the dwarf, he yells, "keep your paws off my mousse!" and runs away. If I approach the Dunadan, he gets extremely self-conscious and goes off to join the dwarf. I'm supposed to be the pretty one, the heart-throb, the one everyone favors. Why am I being shunted away? Mela will pay for her adventure.
Wow. Apparently Gandalf the Grey died or something, because everyone was all happy today when they saw him. He kinda snuck up on us, we were on this huge rock and he was darting behind the trees below it. And he knew my name. Creepy.
I don't need to get Mela back, because the wizard says he will do it for me. He was really pissed off when he found out what she did, and he says that he will cast an anti-blindness spell upon the hobbits she is traveling with, to make them see whatever secrets she stores. I'll bet they don't know that she's, well, a she! I'll bet that they think they're with me! Then they'll see her for what she truly is, and how she is deceiving them. It will all work very well. I am very happy today. So happy, in fact, that I sent a postcard to Arwen. She says she'll try to meet us in Edoras. I can't wait.