Title: A One Way Trip to Middle-earth

Date: 7/26/03

Summary: A fangirl without a clue finds a way to get herself into Middle-earth (movie-verse). What happens then is not what she expects. Warning - Mary Sue bashing.

Notes: This fic was originally done for a vocabulary challenge (challenge to write a fic using a given set of words) with the words: gainsay, phlegmatic, appropriate (v), perfidious, elegy, deference, dissemble, abeyance, foment, propritiate. It has been edited since the orignal draft.

More Notes: Originally, I wanted to write this as a parody/humor fic, with lots of gratuitous Mary Sue bashing (or at least ridicule) as possible. However, the it seeemed to gain a mind of its own in the process of my writing it. I have no idea how the sinister tone snuck in. I could blame Maglor, but he scares me now.

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings and all associated characters, places, etc. belong to the Tolkein estate and WB and whoever else, much as I wish otherwise. Susan Maris is a Mary Sue stereotype that I wouldn't want to keep even if I made her up.


*****


A One Way Trip to Middle-earth


Susan Maris, a.k.a. Sylviana Merielwen Silvermere to her own mind, checked for the third time that her bedroom door was locked, before throwing herself onto her bright pink and overly fluffy bed. Rolling onto her stomach, she gloated avidly over the small gilded box clutched tightly in her hands.

Earlier that day, Susan had wandered away from her friends during their shopping trip at the annual town flea market. Her efforts at rejoining the group had been abruptly thrown into abeyance when a gaudy gold sign had caught her eye. It had belonged to a dingy corner stand under the gloomy shadow of several gnarled trees. Most of the trinkets on display were the usual handcrafted items found in that area of the market, but it was the small collection of items that bore the glittering script of "Lord of the Rings" which had riveted her attention. The old woman - or old man, she couldn't tell and didn't care - behind the stand had shown her a small gilded box among the various framed movie photos and collectibles, and claime that it contained something that could take her into Middle-earth.

The price on the box had been horribly expensive, much more than Susan could have afforded. But that didn't stop her from shamelessly appropriating it while the shopkeeper wasn't looking. The guy was probably a crackpot anyways, she rationalized, and the box was very pretty, with pictures from the movies printed all over it. She did not think too deeply about why she was more fond of the box than the various other photo-covered items at the stand.

Now, in the privacy of her own room, Susan opened the box and dumped the contents out onto her bed. A small crystal ball fell out; she barely caught it before it rolled off the covers. A scrap of parchment with inkblotted writing scratched onto it also fluttered out. Susan spared the parchment a quick perusal, barely registering what seemed to be the instructions that told her to look into the crystal and picture herself into Middle-earth.

Snatching up the crystal ball impatiently, Susan enthusiastically ran through her options in her mind's eye. She would be a princess! Yes, the Princess of the Secret City of Silvermere, who was sent out to Elrond's Council on behalf of her people. Or she could be a princess in hiding - a warrior princess who can dissemble at being a ranger! She would save Boromir from certain death and slay the perfidious Wormtongue before he can tell Saruman about Rohan's defenses. And then, when she reveals herself to the Fellowship, they would all fall over themselves to propitiate her every whim. Arwen and Eowyn would stand aside and show deference to her when she bags Aragorn when he becomes king! Or… no, she'll go for that blond elf guy instead. Aragorn's too dirty for most of the movies anyway. Yes, that's it. She'll go for the elf by going directly into his forest as a princess. Maybe they could already be engaged!

Strangely, she did not bother to entertain the thought that the crystal would not do as advertised. After all, belief is what magic - what fantasy - was all about, was it not? But then, just as doubt did not occur to her, nor did any rationalization either.

Grinning excitedly, Susan stared into the crystal, trying to picture a forest in her mind. What was the name of it again? Lorien? Fanghorn? As her mind struggled to recall details beyond the shallow "hotness" of individual characters, a white flash erupted from within the heart of the crystal, blinding her for a moment.

As the light faded, Susan leapt to her feet in awe as she took in her surroundings. She was in a forest! Just like the ones in the movies! She was in Lord of the Rings! Looking down at herself, she could see that she was dressed like just the princess in her fantasies. There was even a silver circlet on her head! Confidently, Susan - no, Sylviana Merielwen Silvermere now - plunged noisily into the forest, looking for her Elven beau-to-be.

Half an hour later, 'Sylviana' wasn't so confident anymore. In fact, she was tired, sore, and terrified. That last part was probably due to the fact that she was being held midair by a large branchy hand, staring into two gleaming eyes that peered out of a tall tree trunk. She sniffled deep in her throat as the Ent took its sweet time in pondering her presence.

"HOOM!" boomed the Ent as it finally broke the silence. "What have we here? HOOM! A little orc spy?"

'Sylviana' squeaked and tried to gainsay the Ent. "No! No! I'm… I'm Princess Sylviana Merielwen Silvermere of the Secret City of Silvermere, the Secret City of the fairy people!"

"HOOM!", considered the Ent in a flat, phlegmatic tone, "Silvermere. HOOM! Fairy people. HOOM! Never heard of such things before. HOOM!"

But before they could argue further, a loud booming call rang through every nook and cranny of the forest. It was the call of Treebeard, a call of outrage and a call to foment war. Fangorn forest was marching on Isengard.

"HOOM!" said the Ent that had grabbed 'Sylviana'. "We will see what you are, little orc, in time." Then, ignoring her shrieks of terror, it placed her up on its topmost branches and joined the Last March of the Ents.

Very much later, the aforementioned Ent crooned a soft song of lament in the aftermath of the defeat of White Tower. It was an elegy for the Ents who had fallen in the seige. And perhaps it was also for creature it had brought, whose pretty dress had caught fire when the orcs threw their fiery projectiles at him, and then had been swept away by the water released from the River Isen. But death was a part of war, and the Ent would simply remember and move on, as was the way of Ents.

~~~

Meanwhile, back in the real world, an old man gathered up his merchandise into his tattered trailer. As the door shut securely behind him, the air around the man began to shimmer. His form blurred, and revealed behind the glamour was a tall and inhumanly handsome being, with long dark hair and leaf-like ears. The only things that marred his perfection were eyes which gleamed with insane malevolence and the ancient burns that stained his hands.

Reaching into a large, intricately crafted box, he took out a large roll of parchment. Then Maglor Feänorion, exile eternal from Valinor and last elf remaining upon Arda-Marred, crossed out "Sylviana Merielwen Silvermere" from his long list of names… and smiled.

~~~

Fin.