As the fan-fiction writer sat at her computer late one night after seeing "Return of the King," she was inspired to write a story . After thinking over several possibilities, she decided to write an angsty romance detailing the trysts of a dangerous love triangle, one that is so entangled with tragedy and passion that it could threaten to forever tear apart those involved.
Thirty minutes and several cigarettes later, she had finally decided upon a title, "Enigma of the Heart." Opening up her Windows Media Player, she pulled up the Media Library and, settling on listening to the many songs from the Howard Shore produced "Two Towers" soundtrack she had recently downloaded from WinMX, she set to work.
And so she began:
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"As the heavy blankets of rain began to thin, Fánie, the white princess of Imladris emerged from under the branches of the mighty oak tree she had sought as shelter. Straightening the folds of her delicate gown, she trod across the sodden ground.
"Fánie!"
Hearing the Lord Elrond's call, she hurriedly followed its direction and soon came upon the haven of the Elves. Slipping quietly inside of the home of Elrond, she walked in the shadows to avoid being seen. Lord Elrond would be much displeased if he was allowed to see she had again run off from the city, a fact she was sure of which he was already aware.
As she rounded the corner that led into one of the many courtyards that surrounded the grounds, she was stopped in her tracks by the sight before her.
Gathered in the courtyard were Elrond himself, his son Ellandan, and many strange faces that her eyes had never beheld.
A wizard accompanied by a Shire-folk - she had heard only stories before of these unusual creatures, said to live to sing, drink and be merry - speaking the black tongue of Mordor. Her breaths caught starkly in her throat as she heard the terrifying language uttered for the first time in her remembrance in the city.
Taking in the remainder of the unknown, her eyes fell upon a pair of Dwarves settled in a corner, two men of noble stature, many elves from the Woodland region… and then her eyes fell upon him… the most beautiful creature she had ever seen… "
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"Whoa! Wait a minute…what are you talking about 'the most beautiful creature she had ever seen? You already described him!"
Pausing the music temporarily, the author glanced around her room. A few pairs of shoes and her pajama bottoms from the night before lay strewn across her floor, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Ignoring what she deemed to be a figment of her imagination, she continued,
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'…the fair Prince of Mirkwood, youngest son of King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm. Resting her hands upon the column barring her complete sight, she allowed her gaze to stay transfixed upon…"
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"Hello?!? Is anyone there? You've got the wrong guy missy…"
Realizing she had never started the music again, the author stopped writing and again looked around her room. Moving her fingers from the keyboard, she gently pinched her wrist. It sent a sharp pain through her arm as she exclaimed, "Ow!"
Okay, so she wasn't dreaming. But she had definitely heard a voice. Perhaps she was just tired. Wondering aloud, she asked to nobody in particular, "Okay, what was that? Am I going crazy?"
Not truly expecting an answer, she froze momentarily when someone replied, "I'm not certain…perhaps you ARE, seeing as you refuse to acknowledge my presence."
Removing her hands from the keyboard, she set to pinch herself again, hopefully back to reality this time, but before she could grasp any skin, a voice said harshly, "No silly girl! You are not dreaming!"
Dropping her hands, she exclaimed, "Who said that?!?"
"In here," came the reply.
Turning her gaze to her computer monitor, she questioned, "In where?"
A tense silence was broken by a laugh , "In the story silly…"
Glaring at her monitor, the author laughed shakily, "Right…I'm supposed to believe some character a man created fifty years ago is talking to me?"
"Well, you can hear me, can't you?"
Realizing he - for it was a male voice - had a point, the author relented, "Okay, so say I am going to believe you. What do you want with me? And furthermore, who are you?"
"Well, now we're getting somewhere… and I'm surprised you don't recognize me. I'm over here…"
Looking at her monitor like it had plans to bite her, the author licked her lips slowly, "Where?"
"All these years of writing fan-fictions and you're going to tell me you don't visualize your stories in your mind? Come on now, close your eyes…"
Obeying the voice, the author closed her eyes and visualized the very image she had created, the world of Imladris at the Council of Elrond.
"Good, good… now look over here… yes, see the girl at the white column? Picture yourself standing there…"
Doing so, the author, still questioning her sanity replied, "Okay, now what?"
"First of all, get your damn eyes off that elf!"
Feeling a chill creep over her, the author looked away from Legolas, "Then where do I look?"
"At me…"
Frustrated, the author asked, "At WHO?"
"Me… over to the right a bit, past the dwarves, good girl… now, see? Me…Aragorn!"
Finally having a face to accompany the mysterious voice, the author nodded, "Yes, yes, I see you… please tell me this is going somewhere, you are interrupting my thought-processes!"
"Yes, it is going somewhere! Sheesh, you Earthling teenagers are impatient!"
Crossing her arms, the author sat there listening to Aragorn.
"Now, I have a bone to pick with you… I'm tired of pretty boy over there getting all the attention from the girls!"
The author shook her head as she began to reply, "But he doesn't get-"
"Yes he does! The majority of fan-fictions written about us are about him and his grand ability to woo women! I want a story like that!"
Believing her sanity to have left her, the author prodded, "But Aragorn, have you forgotten that you're destined to marry Arwen?"
"Yeah, yeah…details, details! But that's not for another two books! I want something NOW! Nobody seems to be able to get past The Fellowship, so I'm stuck here in dirty Ranger's clothes without anybody for me!"
Putting her hands in front of her as if defending herself, the author retorted, "Talk about US being impatient… "
"Aww come on! All I'm asking for is one story! Hell, I'd settle for a lousy chapter! Why not have
Fánie fall for me?"
Tapping the fingers of her right hand on the desk beside the keyboard, the author tried to reason with Aragorn, "Well, because I already have plans for her. And Legolas has some competition in this one so it's not in the bag for him…"
"Okay, fair enough - you've got it planned out already and I can respect that. So write ME a story…"
"But I have my hands full with his…"
"Please? Just a little short one? Come on, I'll even take a Mary-Sue! Just something to tide me over until The Return of the King!"
Thinking about it for a moment, the author came up with a plan to satisfy Aragorn, "Okay, I'll make you a deal. I will write a story about you and me…"
"Okay, that works, so when should I expect you in Middle Earth?"
Grinning, the author explained, "But my dear Aragorn, I am already there. As you see, I am not talking to just anyone, I am talking to you! And our conversation has already run many hundreds of words."
"So what are you saying?"
Typing away hastily, the author set about transcribing the talk she'd had with Aragorn and replied, "As you see, I am typing it up now. You did say you would settle for a short one and this one runs several pages, plus it will be interesting for readers to read. And you said you just wanted a girl, even if it was a Mary-Sue, so here I am in all my Mary-Sue glory! Here is your story fair Aragorn."
"This could work, but it needs a title."
"Yes, yes… I realize it does. How about 'Field of Paper Flowers'? "