Moria. Dark, damp-place. At least that was what it seemed like to
Saruliel. They had trekked for days (as it seemed to Saruliel), and that
big wet fishy thing had been mean (as it seemed to Saruliel), and if Merry
didn't stop looking at her back like that she was going to smack him.
But they had made good progress, thought the Sue. The trip from Caradhras to the Sirannon had gone as well can be expected, especially with the Magic Rocks of Doom. For some reason this phenomenon had been following her for the past couple days, and Gandalf had had to explain to her that the "Magic Rocks of Doom" were an ancient fairy curse placed upon beautiful maidens which wandered near Moria.
What Saruliel didn't know was that Gandalf was merely covering up for Merry and Pippin, who were using the "Hit Me" sign as an excuse to prove that they were, in fact, literate. Which involved small pointy pieces of gravel.
And then there had been that whole affair with the Watcher thing. Saruliel didn't know what was so bad about that thing, it was probably just lonely. Big Bad Boromir had tried to hurt it, but Saruliel had said "No! It be'ast mine friend-eth of great-eth longing years-ith."
And then it had tried to grab her ankle, so Saruliel had electrocuted it with her "Fairy Princess Magickalings Powerfullness". The Fellowship had dined on roast kraken that night.
But now they were in Moria. Saruliel cursed as she tripped once again on Gandalf's cloak. Legolas' shoes were comfortable, but for some reason or other they kept becoming untied. Walking had become painful, and after a whole day spent in this realm beneath the earth her feet were blistered from the rocks that seemed to find their ways into her footwear over night.
To top it all off, Saruliel's restraining order was still in place. She was quite angry about this, as the Nine Walkers sounded like they were having such a good time back there. Frodo was teaching Gimli and Boromir something called "Springle-Ring", and the quiet laughter that reached her Elven ears only served to remind her of what she was missing.
Oh, and it was dark, too.
Saruliel frowned. Why weren't they fawning over her? She had saved their lives with that Watcher in the Water, and they surely wouldn't have known how to survive on their own without her, so why, in the name of all the realm of Tolkien, did the not want her around?
About thirty paces behind Saruliel, Legolas held his knives in front of him. He glanced at one of them, and then the other. The trill of a panpipe sounded melodramatically in the distance. The white band tied around Legolas' forehead whipped back in an invisible breeze, and his feet kept perfectly in sync with Boromir's paces. The Man of Gondor held his shield out in front of the Elven Prince, a slab of raw Watcher tentacle lying across it.
"Hiyo!" proclaimed Legolas, slicing down in many quick vertical slices. His white knives moved too fast for Boromir to see, and Sam was jumping up and down, trying to catch a glimpse of the culinary art being performed over his head.
"Hwichah!" said Legolas, tossing two coins of the Watcher into the air and spearing them on his knife. He slid the other knife sharply across Boromir's shield, flinging the remaining discs of meat into the air. "Swollen Bluejay!" commanded the Prince of Mirkwood.
Aragorn stepped in, long since resigned to Legolas' names for them whenever he was in the "Samurai Mood". Quite a few of the Mary Sues had tried to convert him to Japanese culture, with katanas and all. The only effect had been to make Legolas think himself Iron Chef and Samurai Warrior all in one. Aragorn held Anduril out before him, and in five quick motions the last bits of the Watcher in the Water were skewered firmly on the legendary sword.
Merry and Pippin clapped. "Do it again!" said the youngest hobbit.
Legolas looked at them, his white headband giving the Elf a very oriental look. "No. No more Watcher meat, no more tricks. No tricks for you!"
"Please Legolas?" asked Merry.
"Not Legolas! Am... Pouncing Cricket! Pouncing Cricket say... no tricks for you!"
Near the head of the party, Frodo was following Gandalf closely. "Do you think it's wise to make so much noise in Moria? We do not wish to awaken the orcs prematurely," asked Frodo, glancing up at the tall wizard.
Gandalf shrugged and skirted a clump of rocks. "They will find Saruliel first. She will be gone, and then... Then our story will fail, and we will be back to the beginning again."
Frodo's shoulders slumped. "Uncle Bilbo's story is 'There and Back Again'. I fear mine shall be 'There and Back Again, and There, and There, and There, and There, and There, and There' going on forever."
Gandalf sighed and looked back at Legolas and Boromir. They were trying to make light of this situation, he knew. After passing through Moria over a hundred times they had all grown to know it quite well. And after the two hundredth time they had started to get irritated. And after the three hundredth time they were now starting to get bored.
Up ahead of the party, Saruliel's borrowed Elven ears picked up the sound of Random Orcs. *They are coming for my Legolas!* thought her mind urgently, preparing her enormous (yet incredibly light) jewelled broadsword.
*They cannot have Legolas!* screamed Saruliel's hormones. *He is mine, my own, my precioussss...*
Sure enough, around the corner stood a band of completely Random Orcs, standing around, and comparing which of them needed the most dental work. It seemed the Author wished for Saruliel to show off her fighting prowess, and Moria was the target location.
"But then I said, if I was about to have a root canal, why go all out and not do... Oh, hello. Are you-" the orc's voice was cut off as Saruliel sliced through its windpipe.
"Take-eth that, nastyful yrch! You can'st not have-th mine Legolas-eth!" screamed Saruliel, her long reddy-orange tresses miraculously staying away from her eyes. "Blasto mefalda! Fasto boomro yrch mormoraka!"
The made-up Elvish did its trick. The innocent, dental-conscious orcs were reduced to a pile of cinders on the floor. *I beat them,* thought Saruliel happily. *Yes, precious, we did.*
*Let's wait and show Gandalf how smart we are, precious,* asserted the Sue's hormones. *Gandalf thinks we can't have Legolas, but we will get him. He will get better, precious, and we will get married! Yes, precious, we will have-*
"What is that noxious smell?" said a voice suddenly. It seemed the Fellowship had caught up to Saruliel quicker than she had known. "Did someone light a bonfire here?" Saruliel recognized the voice as belonging to Boromir.
Around the corner came the first of the Nine Walkers. Gandalf, in the lead with Frodo, frowned at the sight of Saruliel. His old face was arranged in a disproving expression that clearly said "Restraining Order?". But Saruliel did not pay him heed.
"I have-th kill-ed-eth some creatures of true nastynessful. In great-eth danger to mine own life-eth, I have'st come through thine amazingly difficultyness taskings to enrapturously provide'st the comfortings of greatest happiness for-eth mine belov'd nobleth upon companions fair-eth."
Gimli, who had just come upon the scene, quirked a thick eyebrow and looked quickly over his shoulder to where Legolas, or "Pouncing Cricket", would be appearing any time now.
"Bwarf!" came the startled exclamation. Legolas had come up the stairs, and had indeed seen Saruliel. He jumped, about five feet in the air, looped an arm around Aragorn's neck (nearly choking him), used the momentum to swing backwards, and slid down into the dark of Moria.
Aragorn gurgled as Legolas grabbed his neck, and reached out a hand to steady himself. Unfortunately for the Dunadan, "Pouncing Cricket" then let go of "Swollen Bluejay's" neck, and sufficiently threw him off balance, causing the Ranger to be knocked backwards and slide headfirst on his back down the flight of stairs.
"Now look what you did!" exclaimed Sam angrily as Gandalf and Gimli sprinted back to check on Aragorn.
"It be'ast nay mine fault-eth if mine beautifulness doth drive mine noble- eth companion fair Legolas into'st a great frenzyful fit of love!" protested Saruliel.
"Restraining order?" said Gandalf pointedly.
Saruliel sighed. Maybe it was her fault after all. *Can we ever do anything right?* wondered the Sue's survival instinct.
*No, precious,* replied her hormones.
The found Aragorn son of Arathorn sprawled on the last two stairs three flights down. His eyes were open, though he seemed to be having trouble breathing. Legolas was perched on a stone next to his friend, giving the best impression of Gollum in the headlights that Gimli had ever seen.
Gandalf bent down and checked his pulse. It was there -very shallow- but still there. By that time Boromir had arrived, along with Merry and Pippin. "Is he all right?" asked Merry tentatively, looking at Aragorn's prone form.
"I believe he shall make it," supplied Gandalf reassuringly. "Estel! Who was the leader of the second House of the Edain in the First Age!" he snapped all of a sudden.
Life returned to Aragorn's open eyes. "Yee! Elrond! I did not mean to... oh. Do I know you?"
"I believe that answers our questions. Come, Aragorn. Are you injured?" asked the Istar, reaching to pull the Dunadan up by his elbows.
"Leg hurts, Elrond," murmured Aragorn. "Fix it?"
Pippin poked Boromir's side. "How can he mistake Gandalf for Elrond?"
Boromir shrugged. "Crazy Dunadain. They think that they are immune to everything. I expect we shall have to carry him, especially if his leg is broken."
"Boromir, do you have those splints in your pack?" asked Gandalf, poking Aragorn's legs to find the damaged one.
"You mean the hollow rods which we were to use to blow spit at Saruliel? Yes, let me see..." It took a few seconds, but Boromir finally produced the hollow spit-guns from his bundle. Merry and Pippin watched Strider anxiously as Gandalf bound his leg tightly. If they had been more learned in herb lore they would have been able to identify the various plant poultices which Gandalf used to bind the break, but as they were not, a simple phrase will have to do: Gandalf fixed Aragorn's leg and splinted it.
It took little over an hour. At last, Gandalf and Boromir were able to lift the still dazed Dunadan into a standing position and half-carry, half- drag him up the steps. Legolas followed behind, his mind still occupied with the terror of Saruliel. Boromir grit his teeth. Legolas had been insane before, and now Aragorn was descending quickly into utter incomprehensibility. "Are you Elrond?" he babbled, wincing as his leg bumped into the steps. "My name is Swollen Bluejay. I live in the land of dreams and rainbows. Did you know that when you hit yourself, it hurts? If the sky were green and the grass blue, would we call them the gry and the skass? Why not? Did you know that if you sing the 'Release from Bondage' backwards, it really says 'Turin sings like a wart, Saeros is the bestest singer in Doriath'? Can you eat your eyebrows?"
"Can we not sedate him?" grumbled the Man of Gondor.
"We could not carry him if he were to be completely knocked out. And we cannot leave him in Moria. I fear what would happen if we were to linger here longer than in Quest Cycles past," answered Gandalf.
"I like lembas," stated Aragorn. "It is nice and crunchy and sweet. If I had a jewel for every lembas that I have eaten, I would be able to buy Bill the Pony."
Following in the rear, Gimli shook his head sadly and clapped Legolas on the back. "Do not think about Her, Master Elf. It is not worth the thought. Aye, and Aragorn shall be himself again soon. He has probably much worse than this in his time."
"I have known Aragorn for a long time. I have never heard him even express an interest in 'Blobby Gobs of Liquid Squid Meat', however fleeting," replied the Elven Prince sadly. "It is my fault. I should not have tried to run... from her..."
"... liquidy squidy meat! Runny elven tater pie! Stupid cakes that never rise!" sang Aragorn.
The last corner was two steps ahead, and there would be Saruliel. Gimli, Merry, and Pippin quickly moved so that they could knee-tackle Legolas if needed. They turned on the stone floor of Moria, and there was the landing with three doorways. Gimli breathed a sigh of relief. Saruliel must have gone ahead again.
But then the door to the guardroom opened, to reveal Saruliel, Sam, and Frodo peering out into the semi-darkness for the retrieval party.
"Bwarf!" coughed Legolas. He prepared to bolt.
Fortunately, the combined weight of Gimli, Merry, and Pippin was enough to push him to the ground, and to keep him there as the three sat on his back. It was rather like a rodeo, Legolas being the roped calf. His eyes were rolling madly in exactly the same way.
The Fellowship (at least the partially sane ones) glared at Saruliel, who was openly drooling and emitting an aura of Suey "Ewww!"-ness. She appeared to have become more sickeningly beautiful than two hours ago when they had left, and she also seemed to have upped her cup-size.
Seven murderous looks, one panicked gaze, and one amnesiac Ranger singing "And the Sue in the hole, in the hole in the ground, and the mound over top, and the green grass grows around, on the mound! On Haudh-en-Mary Sue!".
It finally hit Saruliel of how much the Fellowship disliked her.
But they had made good progress, thought the Sue. The trip from Caradhras to the Sirannon had gone as well can be expected, especially with the Magic Rocks of Doom. For some reason this phenomenon had been following her for the past couple days, and Gandalf had had to explain to her that the "Magic Rocks of Doom" were an ancient fairy curse placed upon beautiful maidens which wandered near Moria.
What Saruliel didn't know was that Gandalf was merely covering up for Merry and Pippin, who were using the "Hit Me" sign as an excuse to prove that they were, in fact, literate. Which involved small pointy pieces of gravel.
And then there had been that whole affair with the Watcher thing. Saruliel didn't know what was so bad about that thing, it was probably just lonely. Big Bad Boromir had tried to hurt it, but Saruliel had said "No! It be'ast mine friend-eth of great-eth longing years-ith."
And then it had tried to grab her ankle, so Saruliel had electrocuted it with her "Fairy Princess Magickalings Powerfullness". The Fellowship had dined on roast kraken that night.
But now they were in Moria. Saruliel cursed as she tripped once again on Gandalf's cloak. Legolas' shoes were comfortable, but for some reason or other they kept becoming untied. Walking had become painful, and after a whole day spent in this realm beneath the earth her feet were blistered from the rocks that seemed to find their ways into her footwear over night.
To top it all off, Saruliel's restraining order was still in place. She was quite angry about this, as the Nine Walkers sounded like they were having such a good time back there. Frodo was teaching Gimli and Boromir something called "Springle-Ring", and the quiet laughter that reached her Elven ears only served to remind her of what she was missing.
Oh, and it was dark, too.
Saruliel frowned. Why weren't they fawning over her? She had saved their lives with that Watcher in the Water, and they surely wouldn't have known how to survive on their own without her, so why, in the name of all the realm of Tolkien, did the not want her around?
About thirty paces behind Saruliel, Legolas held his knives in front of him. He glanced at one of them, and then the other. The trill of a panpipe sounded melodramatically in the distance. The white band tied around Legolas' forehead whipped back in an invisible breeze, and his feet kept perfectly in sync with Boromir's paces. The Man of Gondor held his shield out in front of the Elven Prince, a slab of raw Watcher tentacle lying across it.
"Hiyo!" proclaimed Legolas, slicing down in many quick vertical slices. His white knives moved too fast for Boromir to see, and Sam was jumping up and down, trying to catch a glimpse of the culinary art being performed over his head.
"Hwichah!" said Legolas, tossing two coins of the Watcher into the air and spearing them on his knife. He slid the other knife sharply across Boromir's shield, flinging the remaining discs of meat into the air. "Swollen Bluejay!" commanded the Prince of Mirkwood.
Aragorn stepped in, long since resigned to Legolas' names for them whenever he was in the "Samurai Mood". Quite a few of the Mary Sues had tried to convert him to Japanese culture, with katanas and all. The only effect had been to make Legolas think himself Iron Chef and Samurai Warrior all in one. Aragorn held Anduril out before him, and in five quick motions the last bits of the Watcher in the Water were skewered firmly on the legendary sword.
Merry and Pippin clapped. "Do it again!" said the youngest hobbit.
Legolas looked at them, his white headband giving the Elf a very oriental look. "No. No more Watcher meat, no more tricks. No tricks for you!"
"Please Legolas?" asked Merry.
"Not Legolas! Am... Pouncing Cricket! Pouncing Cricket say... no tricks for you!"
Near the head of the party, Frodo was following Gandalf closely. "Do you think it's wise to make so much noise in Moria? We do not wish to awaken the orcs prematurely," asked Frodo, glancing up at the tall wizard.
Gandalf shrugged and skirted a clump of rocks. "They will find Saruliel first. She will be gone, and then... Then our story will fail, and we will be back to the beginning again."
Frodo's shoulders slumped. "Uncle Bilbo's story is 'There and Back Again'. I fear mine shall be 'There and Back Again, and There, and There, and There, and There, and There, and There' going on forever."
Gandalf sighed and looked back at Legolas and Boromir. They were trying to make light of this situation, he knew. After passing through Moria over a hundred times they had all grown to know it quite well. And after the two hundredth time they had started to get irritated. And after the three hundredth time they were now starting to get bored.
Up ahead of the party, Saruliel's borrowed Elven ears picked up the sound of Random Orcs. *They are coming for my Legolas!* thought her mind urgently, preparing her enormous (yet incredibly light) jewelled broadsword.
*They cannot have Legolas!* screamed Saruliel's hormones. *He is mine, my own, my precioussss...*
Sure enough, around the corner stood a band of completely Random Orcs, standing around, and comparing which of them needed the most dental work. It seemed the Author wished for Saruliel to show off her fighting prowess, and Moria was the target location.
"But then I said, if I was about to have a root canal, why go all out and not do... Oh, hello. Are you-" the orc's voice was cut off as Saruliel sliced through its windpipe.
"Take-eth that, nastyful yrch! You can'st not have-th mine Legolas-eth!" screamed Saruliel, her long reddy-orange tresses miraculously staying away from her eyes. "Blasto mefalda! Fasto boomro yrch mormoraka!"
The made-up Elvish did its trick. The innocent, dental-conscious orcs were reduced to a pile of cinders on the floor. *I beat them,* thought Saruliel happily. *Yes, precious, we did.*
*Let's wait and show Gandalf how smart we are, precious,* asserted the Sue's hormones. *Gandalf thinks we can't have Legolas, but we will get him. He will get better, precious, and we will get married! Yes, precious, we will have-*
"What is that noxious smell?" said a voice suddenly. It seemed the Fellowship had caught up to Saruliel quicker than she had known. "Did someone light a bonfire here?" Saruliel recognized the voice as belonging to Boromir.
Around the corner came the first of the Nine Walkers. Gandalf, in the lead with Frodo, frowned at the sight of Saruliel. His old face was arranged in a disproving expression that clearly said "Restraining Order?". But Saruliel did not pay him heed.
"I have-th kill-ed-eth some creatures of true nastynessful. In great-eth danger to mine own life-eth, I have'st come through thine amazingly difficultyness taskings to enrapturously provide'st the comfortings of greatest happiness for-eth mine belov'd nobleth upon companions fair-eth."
Gimli, who had just come upon the scene, quirked a thick eyebrow and looked quickly over his shoulder to where Legolas, or "Pouncing Cricket", would be appearing any time now.
"Bwarf!" came the startled exclamation. Legolas had come up the stairs, and had indeed seen Saruliel. He jumped, about five feet in the air, looped an arm around Aragorn's neck (nearly choking him), used the momentum to swing backwards, and slid down into the dark of Moria.
Aragorn gurgled as Legolas grabbed his neck, and reached out a hand to steady himself. Unfortunately for the Dunadan, "Pouncing Cricket" then let go of "Swollen Bluejay's" neck, and sufficiently threw him off balance, causing the Ranger to be knocked backwards and slide headfirst on his back down the flight of stairs.
"Now look what you did!" exclaimed Sam angrily as Gandalf and Gimli sprinted back to check on Aragorn.
"It be'ast nay mine fault-eth if mine beautifulness doth drive mine noble- eth companion fair Legolas into'st a great frenzyful fit of love!" protested Saruliel.
"Restraining order?" said Gandalf pointedly.
Saruliel sighed. Maybe it was her fault after all. *Can we ever do anything right?* wondered the Sue's survival instinct.
*No, precious,* replied her hormones.
The found Aragorn son of Arathorn sprawled on the last two stairs three flights down. His eyes were open, though he seemed to be having trouble breathing. Legolas was perched on a stone next to his friend, giving the best impression of Gollum in the headlights that Gimli had ever seen.
Gandalf bent down and checked his pulse. It was there -very shallow- but still there. By that time Boromir had arrived, along with Merry and Pippin. "Is he all right?" asked Merry tentatively, looking at Aragorn's prone form.
"I believe he shall make it," supplied Gandalf reassuringly. "Estel! Who was the leader of the second House of the Edain in the First Age!" he snapped all of a sudden.
Life returned to Aragorn's open eyes. "Yee! Elrond! I did not mean to... oh. Do I know you?"
"I believe that answers our questions. Come, Aragorn. Are you injured?" asked the Istar, reaching to pull the Dunadan up by his elbows.
"Leg hurts, Elrond," murmured Aragorn. "Fix it?"
Pippin poked Boromir's side. "How can he mistake Gandalf for Elrond?"
Boromir shrugged. "Crazy Dunadain. They think that they are immune to everything. I expect we shall have to carry him, especially if his leg is broken."
"Boromir, do you have those splints in your pack?" asked Gandalf, poking Aragorn's legs to find the damaged one.
"You mean the hollow rods which we were to use to blow spit at Saruliel? Yes, let me see..." It took a few seconds, but Boromir finally produced the hollow spit-guns from his bundle. Merry and Pippin watched Strider anxiously as Gandalf bound his leg tightly. If they had been more learned in herb lore they would have been able to identify the various plant poultices which Gandalf used to bind the break, but as they were not, a simple phrase will have to do: Gandalf fixed Aragorn's leg and splinted it.
It took little over an hour. At last, Gandalf and Boromir were able to lift the still dazed Dunadan into a standing position and half-carry, half- drag him up the steps. Legolas followed behind, his mind still occupied with the terror of Saruliel. Boromir grit his teeth. Legolas had been insane before, and now Aragorn was descending quickly into utter incomprehensibility. "Are you Elrond?" he babbled, wincing as his leg bumped into the steps. "My name is Swollen Bluejay. I live in the land of dreams and rainbows. Did you know that when you hit yourself, it hurts? If the sky were green and the grass blue, would we call them the gry and the skass? Why not? Did you know that if you sing the 'Release from Bondage' backwards, it really says 'Turin sings like a wart, Saeros is the bestest singer in Doriath'? Can you eat your eyebrows?"
"Can we not sedate him?" grumbled the Man of Gondor.
"We could not carry him if he were to be completely knocked out. And we cannot leave him in Moria. I fear what would happen if we were to linger here longer than in Quest Cycles past," answered Gandalf.
"I like lembas," stated Aragorn. "It is nice and crunchy and sweet. If I had a jewel for every lembas that I have eaten, I would be able to buy Bill the Pony."
Following in the rear, Gimli shook his head sadly and clapped Legolas on the back. "Do not think about Her, Master Elf. It is not worth the thought. Aye, and Aragorn shall be himself again soon. He has probably much worse than this in his time."
"I have known Aragorn for a long time. I have never heard him even express an interest in 'Blobby Gobs of Liquid Squid Meat', however fleeting," replied the Elven Prince sadly. "It is my fault. I should not have tried to run... from her..."
"... liquidy squidy meat! Runny elven tater pie! Stupid cakes that never rise!" sang Aragorn.
The last corner was two steps ahead, and there would be Saruliel. Gimli, Merry, and Pippin quickly moved so that they could knee-tackle Legolas if needed. They turned on the stone floor of Moria, and there was the landing with three doorways. Gimli breathed a sigh of relief. Saruliel must have gone ahead again.
But then the door to the guardroom opened, to reveal Saruliel, Sam, and Frodo peering out into the semi-darkness for the retrieval party.
"Bwarf!" coughed Legolas. He prepared to bolt.
Fortunately, the combined weight of Gimli, Merry, and Pippin was enough to push him to the ground, and to keep him there as the three sat on his back. It was rather like a rodeo, Legolas being the roped calf. His eyes were rolling madly in exactly the same way.
The Fellowship (at least the partially sane ones) glared at Saruliel, who was openly drooling and emitting an aura of Suey "Ewww!"-ness. She appeared to have become more sickeningly beautiful than two hours ago when they had left, and she also seemed to have upped her cup-size.
Seven murderous looks, one panicked gaze, and one amnesiac Ranger singing "And the Sue in the hole, in the hole in the ground, and the mound over top, and the green grass grows around, on the mound! On Haudh-en-Mary Sue!".
It finally hit Saruliel of how much the Fellowship disliked her.