Disclaimer (finally): *sighs* Just about the only thing that belongs to me
is the humor. Wait. What humor? *CENSORED* It just left! This chapter isn't
funny! *hides* Don't sue. for the Valar's sake, please don't sue.
Author's Note: Anything in * * is a thought. And I know it's a short chapter this time, but that was where I wanted it to end. Even more evil plans for Jeannette. *laughs evilly*
Chapter Six: In Which Jeannette and Aragorn Meet
Jeannette stalked away from Legolas and Arwen. "Let the- the she-Elf put him to bed herself," she muttered under her breath. SMACK! Jeannette found herself on the floor, looking up at "Aragorn?" she gasped. *Just the person I was looking for,* she thought miserably.
Aragorn pulled her up. "Hello," he said, trying to extract his hand from her tight, shocked grip. "May I have the pleasure of your name?"
"Jeannette," she replied amiably, releasing his hand, conscious of his eyes traveling up and down her frame. She didn't blame him. She knew she was pretty. She just wished he would be more. discreet about it. "And you are.?"
"Aragorn," he said. "I am Aragorn son of Arathorn." He grinned roguishly. "I am pleased to meet you, Lady Jeannette."
"Likewise, I'm sure," Jeannette replied dryly, trying to ignore his eyes on her face. Her destiny lay with Legolas, she was sure of that.
"Where is Arwen?"
*Of course,* Jeannette thought furiously. *It all goes back to little miss Arwen, doesn't it?* Aloud, she said, "With the Prince of Mirkwood, who just arrived." *Just in time for a snog-fest,* she added silently.
"I see," Aragorn said. "Will you come with me, Lady Jeannette, and I shall collect Arwen and leave you with Legolas, since I presume you came from Mirkwood."
"Yeah," Jeannette said, looking up at Aragorn, staring into his stormy grey eyes. *Convenient plot device,* she thought. *Score one for me!* "I came with Legolas." She sighed, trying to look appealing and at the same time pitiful. She succeeded. "Do you think I'm pretty?"
Aragorn blinked. And blinked again. He swallowed. "Of course, Lady. The Prince of Mirkwood does not have his women otherwise."
Jeannette laughed. "A compliment from Aragorn?" she asked coyly, leaning against him. He backed up, and she glared up at him from under long dark lashes. "But one he does not honor?"
"My love is given to Arwen," he intoned blandly. "And hers to me. I think." He shrugged nervously. "But with The Stick around, I think he's a big threat."
"The Stick?" Jeannette asked, confused. "What about a stick?" She planted her hands on her hips.
*Snog-fest,* Aragorn thought, staring. He shook his head to dispel such thoughts. "Legolas. He's so skinny that he looks like a stick."
"He is not!" Jeannette snapped angrily. "He's willowy and slender and perfect! Don't you dare say anything bad about him, you dirty Ranger! Go take a bath!"
Aragorn touched his hair self-consciously. *I need a bath?* He pushed away such foolish notions. The only soap Elrond had in Rivendell was "very berry blast"-scented. He didn't want to be sniffed out from a mile away! His thoughts trailed back to Jeannette. *She's so pretty.*
"Aragorn?" she asked. "Aren't you going to yell or something?" She tapped her foot impatiently.
"You're pretty," he managed at last. He removed the Evenstar from around his throat. *It's ugly anyways,* he thought, trying to push away his guilt. "Will you be mine?" he asked Jeannette, falling to one knee. "You are like the, um, dawn breaking over the Misty Mountains. You are my light, my life, the very air I breathe!"
"That's sweet," Jeannette said, smiling evilly. *Convenient plot device,* she thought again, the beginnings of an evil plan forming in her mind. "Very sweet of you."
Author's Note: Anything in * * is a thought. And I know it's a short chapter this time, but that was where I wanted it to end. Even more evil plans for Jeannette. *laughs evilly*
Chapter Six: In Which Jeannette and Aragorn Meet
Jeannette stalked away from Legolas and Arwen. "Let the- the she-Elf put him to bed herself," she muttered under her breath. SMACK! Jeannette found herself on the floor, looking up at "Aragorn?" she gasped. *Just the person I was looking for,* she thought miserably.
Aragorn pulled her up. "Hello," he said, trying to extract his hand from her tight, shocked grip. "May I have the pleasure of your name?"
"Jeannette," she replied amiably, releasing his hand, conscious of his eyes traveling up and down her frame. She didn't blame him. She knew she was pretty. She just wished he would be more. discreet about it. "And you are.?"
"Aragorn," he said. "I am Aragorn son of Arathorn." He grinned roguishly. "I am pleased to meet you, Lady Jeannette."
"Likewise, I'm sure," Jeannette replied dryly, trying to ignore his eyes on her face. Her destiny lay with Legolas, she was sure of that.
"Where is Arwen?"
*Of course,* Jeannette thought furiously. *It all goes back to little miss Arwen, doesn't it?* Aloud, she said, "With the Prince of Mirkwood, who just arrived." *Just in time for a snog-fest,* she added silently.
"I see," Aragorn said. "Will you come with me, Lady Jeannette, and I shall collect Arwen and leave you with Legolas, since I presume you came from Mirkwood."
"Yeah," Jeannette said, looking up at Aragorn, staring into his stormy grey eyes. *Convenient plot device,* she thought. *Score one for me!* "I came with Legolas." She sighed, trying to look appealing and at the same time pitiful. She succeeded. "Do you think I'm pretty?"
Aragorn blinked. And blinked again. He swallowed. "Of course, Lady. The Prince of Mirkwood does not have his women otherwise."
Jeannette laughed. "A compliment from Aragorn?" she asked coyly, leaning against him. He backed up, and she glared up at him from under long dark lashes. "But one he does not honor?"
"My love is given to Arwen," he intoned blandly. "And hers to me. I think." He shrugged nervously. "But with The Stick around, I think he's a big threat."
"The Stick?" Jeannette asked, confused. "What about a stick?" She planted her hands on her hips.
*Snog-fest,* Aragorn thought, staring. He shook his head to dispel such thoughts. "Legolas. He's so skinny that he looks like a stick."
"He is not!" Jeannette snapped angrily. "He's willowy and slender and perfect! Don't you dare say anything bad about him, you dirty Ranger! Go take a bath!"
Aragorn touched his hair self-consciously. *I need a bath?* He pushed away such foolish notions. The only soap Elrond had in Rivendell was "very berry blast"-scented. He didn't want to be sniffed out from a mile away! His thoughts trailed back to Jeannette. *She's so pretty.*
"Aragorn?" she asked. "Aren't you going to yell or something?" She tapped her foot impatiently.
"You're pretty," he managed at last. He removed the Evenstar from around his throat. *It's ugly anyways,* he thought, trying to push away his guilt. "Will you be mine?" he asked Jeannette, falling to one knee. "You are like the, um, dawn breaking over the Misty Mountains. You are my light, my life, the very air I breathe!"
"That's sweet," Jeannette said, smiling evilly. *Convenient plot device,* she thought again, the beginnings of an evil plan forming in her mind. "Very sweet of you."