Saruliel pushed a pile of snow out of her path and took another step
forward. Icy winds pelted her face, building up a mask of frost over her
lips and nose. There were only two thoughts in Saruliel's mind: One, it
was cold. Two, Legolas was totally smitten with her. Why else would he
have fainted from her kiss?
The Mary Sue turned a corner and paused. The path became much narrower here. She clung to the gray wall of Caradhras and felt snowflakes slam into her cheek. How was she supposed to look beautiful if she was half- encrusted with snow? Legolas had still managed to look hot with snow in his hair, why couldn't she? And it was cold, too.
A couple more steps, and she slid down the mountain face into a sitting position. Exhausting, this was. Walking had been easy. But to push mounds of ice out of the way as well? Not good.
Her Elven ability to walk on snow had done little good. Well, it might have, had Saruliel been wearing sensible walking clothes. For all of you wondering, dresses with delicate embroidery and fine beading do not constitute "sensible walking clothes". *Ah, well*, thought Saruliel. *At least my legs are warm*.
*Leg?* thought Saruliel's "brain" (note the quotation marks). *As in, Leg- olas?*
*Shut up,* answered Saruliel's survival instinct. *We can't have Legolas if we are frozen.*
*We wants Legolas*, remarked Saruliel's hormones. *We does, Precious*.
Saruliel sighed. It was so hard to work sensibly with that little voice in the back of her head demanding to have the Elven Prince. Ai, such were the tribulations of a Mary Sue.
Saruliel yawned and rested her head against the rock face. Snow was piling up around her, but she didn't really mind at the moment. Her limbs felt heavy... very heavy. Maybe she would rest here for a little bit, then scout ahead and see if there was any better shelter later. *Yes, later...* mumbled her survival instinct. *We need rest now,* it thought.
*Legolas...* murmured Saruliel's hormones.
At the foot of Caradhras, under a small overhang of rock, the Fellowship of the Ring was playing Yahtzee. Or at least what they thought was Yahtzee. Despite all of the cultural contamination the Nine Walkers had received from Earth, they could still not read English. Aragorn and Frodo understood a few phrases, such as "hot", "I love you (Legolas)", and many, many curse words. But that still didn't allow them to read the instruction pamphlet.
"Six dots!" shouted Boromir triumphantly. "You only have four, Frodo. I'm winning!"
Frodo smiled in the time-honored fashion of a good loser and passed his die to Merry. "Come on Merry, beat him this time. He can't keep getting six dots forever."
Merry took the small plastic cube and sat down across from Boromir. "One, two, three!" they said together, then each dropped their die onto the ground.
"Och, who's winning now," said Gimli, who was smoking a pipe by the entrance of their camp. "Master Brandybuck has trounced your two dots with six!"
Boromir sank down onto the ground. He never had the lead for long. "Fine, fine. Who wants to go next? Aragorn?"
Aragorn, who was sitting in the back end of the cave with Legolas, shook his head sharply. Boromir quieted down. Aragorn was attempting to perform psychiatric-reconstruction therapy with Legolas, and this involved a lot of quiet. Actually, Aragorn had diagnosed that all Legolas really needed was some time away from the Sues, but this didn't happen often. Therefore, therapy.
"Now, Legolas. Can you tell me how this all started?" said Aragorn, who had taken the sunglasses from the Weird Mathoms collection and was perching them on the bridge of his nose.
"You know how it all began, Aragorn. You were there, remember? First there was one, and then... There were millions..." Legolas started. Suddenly, he jumped up. "Millions! Everywhere! EVERYWHERE. I can't breathe! No! No! No!"
Aragorn pushed the Elf back into a sitting position before he hurt himself. "Do you want some Crisco?"
Legolas nodded like a child at the doctor who has just received a painful shot, and now wants a lollipop in return. Aragorn passed him the bottle of cooking oil from the Weird Mathoms sack.
"Mmm..." said Legolas, unscrewing the top and dribbling a bit into his mouth. He calmed down and stretched his legs out.
Every other member of the Fellowship blanched. They had all tried the Crisco oil, and thought that it tasted nasty. How Legolas ever managed to eat that stuff was beyond them.
At that moment Gandalf walked into the lean-to, shaking light snow off of his hat. "It has been three days since we sent Saruliel off on her own. Perhaps we should assume that she has perished."
At the mention of Saruliel Legolas choked on his Crisco cooking oil and was reduced to a gibbering mass of Elf in the corner of the cave. Aragorn sighed and removed his psychiatric-sunglasses. "Did you have to mention Her now, Gandalf? I was making progress."
Gandalf tilted his head slightly and pulled Aragorn out of the cave with his staff. Once they were out of Legolas' earshot (which was very, very far from the encampment) Gandalf spoke again.
"Is it reasonable to assume that she is dead, then?" asked the Istari.
"For a normal Man I would believe her dead. For a Mary Sue I might consider otherwise," answered Aragorn. "And we had agreed not to inflict Eomer with Saruliel."
"We will have to investigate, it seems," replied Gandalf wearily. "Hopefully she will be dead."
And so it came to pass that the next day Aragorn, Boromir, and Gimli set out to find Saruliel. Gandalf and Aragorn had decided that it was trouble enough getting the Hobbits up and down Caradhras in normal fictions, that they may as well only take a few up, as they were not even intending to try Caradhras. The chosen three were bundling up and gathering ropes in case they needed to tow Saruliel down the mountain. Legolas had even loaned Gimli the Amazing Technicolor Sue-Pelt to wear before having a spastic fit and shoving apples into his ears.
Gandalf and Frodo waved good-bye to the party. Frodo was grinning fixedly through his teeth. "Do you think they'll come back with Her?" asked Frodo without moving his lips.
"I hope not," replied Gandalf, also using ventriloquism. Even though Legolas' ears were stoppered, they had reason to believe that the Elf could read lips. Therefore, in efforts to prevent another psychotic episode... ventriloquism.
That was a new agreement among the Fellowship, made just after Legolas had passed out from Sue-kisses: spare the blow of the word as much as possible. No mentioning the word "Mary Sue". The Valar knew that they didn't want another one of those "episodes" in which Legolas mistook Merry for Mary (Sue) and tried to tie him to the Bridge of Khazad-Dum.
Gandalf and Frodo sighed. Why in all of Middle-Earth did They find them so appealing?
Meanwhile, about halfway up Caradhras, Gimli had bumped into a large frozen block of ice. "Boromir, hold a moment," said the Dwarf, prodding the icy lump with his axe. "I think I found her."
Boromir turned around and waded back through the trench he had created to where Gimli was brushing snow off of a mound of Something. "We should start a fire," said the Man of Gondor.
Gimli nodded and left off his excavations to Aragorn and Boromir as he used his Dwarven skills to set a faggot of wood alight. Caradhras wasn't hindering the process much, as the mountain itself seemed to want the Mary Sue off of it too much to give the three Fellowship members much grief. Gimli held the bundle of sticks next to the top of the snow-covered lump, and Aragorn and Boromir moving to shield the flame from the wind.
"It is Saruliel," sighed Boromir as the Sue's orangey hair was revealed from under the snow. "And I had so hoped that we had lost her."
"Could she have survived three days frozen solid?" asked Gimli as he melted the bits of ice holding Saruliel to the mountainside.
Aragorn peered at Saruliel's blue lips. All of a sudden, there was a cough from the Mary Sue. So she was alive. Boromir frowned and folded his arms over his chest. "It was too much to ask."
"She has been frozen. Frozen sickness, frostbite, elevation sickness as well, it seems. But no, she is not dead. A curse upon these Sues that they are so hard to dispose of!" exclaimed Aragorn, looping a string around Saruliel and pulling her away from the walls of Caradhras.
Gimli shook his head sadly and helped Aragorn roll Saruliel down the slope. Boromir went ahead of them and cleared a path. It was frustrating, considering that the Fellowship had been so close to losing Her. Ah, well. Some things are perhaps not meant to be. It was a couple hours later when Boromir spotted some level ground ahead, signaling the end of Caradhras. Then he noticed a rumbling sound. The Man of Gondor turned sharply.
Saruliel had amassed a considerable amount of snow and was now rolling down Caradhras in the form of a gigantic snowball. Aragorn and Gimli jogged behind the frozen Sue, torn between amusement and concern that the ice chunk would flatten Boromir.
The son of Denethor was no fool; he pressed himself against Caradhras and allowed the snowball to fly past him, down into the forest, where it banged into a tree and knocked loose several leaves, branches, and one startled Prince of Mirkwood.
It goes without saying that the said Prince of Mirkwood then proceeded to have a hysterical fit after seeing the frozen head of Saruliel staring at him from inside of a large chunk of ice.
The Mary Sue turned a corner and paused. The path became much narrower here. She clung to the gray wall of Caradhras and felt snowflakes slam into her cheek. How was she supposed to look beautiful if she was half- encrusted with snow? Legolas had still managed to look hot with snow in his hair, why couldn't she? And it was cold, too.
A couple more steps, and she slid down the mountain face into a sitting position. Exhausting, this was. Walking had been easy. But to push mounds of ice out of the way as well? Not good.
Her Elven ability to walk on snow had done little good. Well, it might have, had Saruliel been wearing sensible walking clothes. For all of you wondering, dresses with delicate embroidery and fine beading do not constitute "sensible walking clothes". *Ah, well*, thought Saruliel. *At least my legs are warm*.
*Leg?* thought Saruliel's "brain" (note the quotation marks). *As in, Leg- olas?*
*Shut up,* answered Saruliel's survival instinct. *We can't have Legolas if we are frozen.*
*We wants Legolas*, remarked Saruliel's hormones. *We does, Precious*.
Saruliel sighed. It was so hard to work sensibly with that little voice in the back of her head demanding to have the Elven Prince. Ai, such were the tribulations of a Mary Sue.
Saruliel yawned and rested her head against the rock face. Snow was piling up around her, but she didn't really mind at the moment. Her limbs felt heavy... very heavy. Maybe she would rest here for a little bit, then scout ahead and see if there was any better shelter later. *Yes, later...* mumbled her survival instinct. *We need rest now,* it thought.
*Legolas...* murmured Saruliel's hormones.
At the foot of Caradhras, under a small overhang of rock, the Fellowship of the Ring was playing Yahtzee. Or at least what they thought was Yahtzee. Despite all of the cultural contamination the Nine Walkers had received from Earth, they could still not read English. Aragorn and Frodo understood a few phrases, such as "hot", "I love you (Legolas)", and many, many curse words. But that still didn't allow them to read the instruction pamphlet.
"Six dots!" shouted Boromir triumphantly. "You only have four, Frodo. I'm winning!"
Frodo smiled in the time-honored fashion of a good loser and passed his die to Merry. "Come on Merry, beat him this time. He can't keep getting six dots forever."
Merry took the small plastic cube and sat down across from Boromir. "One, two, three!" they said together, then each dropped their die onto the ground.
"Och, who's winning now," said Gimli, who was smoking a pipe by the entrance of their camp. "Master Brandybuck has trounced your two dots with six!"
Boromir sank down onto the ground. He never had the lead for long. "Fine, fine. Who wants to go next? Aragorn?"
Aragorn, who was sitting in the back end of the cave with Legolas, shook his head sharply. Boromir quieted down. Aragorn was attempting to perform psychiatric-reconstruction therapy with Legolas, and this involved a lot of quiet. Actually, Aragorn had diagnosed that all Legolas really needed was some time away from the Sues, but this didn't happen often. Therefore, therapy.
"Now, Legolas. Can you tell me how this all started?" said Aragorn, who had taken the sunglasses from the Weird Mathoms collection and was perching them on the bridge of his nose.
"You know how it all began, Aragorn. You were there, remember? First there was one, and then... There were millions..." Legolas started. Suddenly, he jumped up. "Millions! Everywhere! EVERYWHERE. I can't breathe! No! No! No!"
Aragorn pushed the Elf back into a sitting position before he hurt himself. "Do you want some Crisco?"
Legolas nodded like a child at the doctor who has just received a painful shot, and now wants a lollipop in return. Aragorn passed him the bottle of cooking oil from the Weird Mathoms sack.
"Mmm..." said Legolas, unscrewing the top and dribbling a bit into his mouth. He calmed down and stretched his legs out.
Every other member of the Fellowship blanched. They had all tried the Crisco oil, and thought that it tasted nasty. How Legolas ever managed to eat that stuff was beyond them.
At that moment Gandalf walked into the lean-to, shaking light snow off of his hat. "It has been three days since we sent Saruliel off on her own. Perhaps we should assume that she has perished."
At the mention of Saruliel Legolas choked on his Crisco cooking oil and was reduced to a gibbering mass of Elf in the corner of the cave. Aragorn sighed and removed his psychiatric-sunglasses. "Did you have to mention Her now, Gandalf? I was making progress."
Gandalf tilted his head slightly and pulled Aragorn out of the cave with his staff. Once they were out of Legolas' earshot (which was very, very far from the encampment) Gandalf spoke again.
"Is it reasonable to assume that she is dead, then?" asked the Istari.
"For a normal Man I would believe her dead. For a Mary Sue I might consider otherwise," answered Aragorn. "And we had agreed not to inflict Eomer with Saruliel."
"We will have to investigate, it seems," replied Gandalf wearily. "Hopefully she will be dead."
And so it came to pass that the next day Aragorn, Boromir, and Gimli set out to find Saruliel. Gandalf and Aragorn had decided that it was trouble enough getting the Hobbits up and down Caradhras in normal fictions, that they may as well only take a few up, as they were not even intending to try Caradhras. The chosen three were bundling up and gathering ropes in case they needed to tow Saruliel down the mountain. Legolas had even loaned Gimli the Amazing Technicolor Sue-Pelt to wear before having a spastic fit and shoving apples into his ears.
Gandalf and Frodo waved good-bye to the party. Frodo was grinning fixedly through his teeth. "Do you think they'll come back with Her?" asked Frodo without moving his lips.
"I hope not," replied Gandalf, also using ventriloquism. Even though Legolas' ears were stoppered, they had reason to believe that the Elf could read lips. Therefore, in efforts to prevent another psychotic episode... ventriloquism.
That was a new agreement among the Fellowship, made just after Legolas had passed out from Sue-kisses: spare the blow of the word as much as possible. No mentioning the word "Mary Sue". The Valar knew that they didn't want another one of those "episodes" in which Legolas mistook Merry for Mary (Sue) and tried to tie him to the Bridge of Khazad-Dum.
Gandalf and Frodo sighed. Why in all of Middle-Earth did They find them so appealing?
Meanwhile, about halfway up Caradhras, Gimli had bumped into a large frozen block of ice. "Boromir, hold a moment," said the Dwarf, prodding the icy lump with his axe. "I think I found her."
Boromir turned around and waded back through the trench he had created to where Gimli was brushing snow off of a mound of Something. "We should start a fire," said the Man of Gondor.
Gimli nodded and left off his excavations to Aragorn and Boromir as he used his Dwarven skills to set a faggot of wood alight. Caradhras wasn't hindering the process much, as the mountain itself seemed to want the Mary Sue off of it too much to give the three Fellowship members much grief. Gimli held the bundle of sticks next to the top of the snow-covered lump, and Aragorn and Boromir moving to shield the flame from the wind.
"It is Saruliel," sighed Boromir as the Sue's orangey hair was revealed from under the snow. "And I had so hoped that we had lost her."
"Could she have survived three days frozen solid?" asked Gimli as he melted the bits of ice holding Saruliel to the mountainside.
Aragorn peered at Saruliel's blue lips. All of a sudden, there was a cough from the Mary Sue. So she was alive. Boromir frowned and folded his arms over his chest. "It was too much to ask."
"She has been frozen. Frozen sickness, frostbite, elevation sickness as well, it seems. But no, she is not dead. A curse upon these Sues that they are so hard to dispose of!" exclaimed Aragorn, looping a string around Saruliel and pulling her away from the walls of Caradhras.
Gimli shook his head sadly and helped Aragorn roll Saruliel down the slope. Boromir went ahead of them and cleared a path. It was frustrating, considering that the Fellowship had been so close to losing Her. Ah, well. Some things are perhaps not meant to be. It was a couple hours later when Boromir spotted some level ground ahead, signaling the end of Caradhras. Then he noticed a rumbling sound. The Man of Gondor turned sharply.
Saruliel had amassed a considerable amount of snow and was now rolling down Caradhras in the form of a gigantic snowball. Aragorn and Gimli jogged behind the frozen Sue, torn between amusement and concern that the ice chunk would flatten Boromir.
The son of Denethor was no fool; he pressed himself against Caradhras and allowed the snowball to fly past him, down into the forest, where it banged into a tree and knocked loose several leaves, branches, and one startled Prince of Mirkwood.
It goes without saying that the said Prince of Mirkwood then proceeded to have a hysterical fit after seeing the frozen head of Saruliel staring at him from inside of a large chunk of ice.