A/N – Love Tolkien, inspired by a silly story told after a drunken night in
Newcastle, UK!!!!!!!! Home of Tolkien and Soho! Just for fun or to be taken
seriously as you please. Enjoy or not this is An Immortal Love.
Disclaimer- I own nothing but Miranda and Roxanne and a few minor characters. This is a tribute to Tolkien and his works, and those of Peter Jackson.
"An Immortal Love."
The tale of Prince Legolas Naryalin, son of Thranduil, High King of Greenwood the Great and the mortal Miranda Jane Tolkien, honourary Lady of Rivendell and Gondor.
Chapter One.
The smell of beer and cigarettes hung on Mimi's skimpy costume as she ran from the stage with her friend, Roxanne. Flopping down in her dresser chair she stared at her reflection in the theatrical mirror. Her chestnut hair was piled high on her head in elaborate curls and her evergreen eyes were practically hidden by the heavy blue eyeshadow and fake eyelashes she wore. She was nearly twenty, just out of stage school, and working as a dancer at a club called Moonshine in the heart of Soho. The job wasn't what she wanted from life but she was broke and proper theatre jobs were few and far between. "Hey dreamer?" called her friend Roxie. Mimi turned to face her friend. Roxanne Jackson was a total contrast to Mimi. She was a year older, with short blonde curls and a perfect porcelain complexion. She wrapped a dressing gown over her purple sequined top and hot pants. "What are you thinking about Mimi?" she asked. "Nothing," said Mimi with a weak smile, "Its just..." "Just what honey?" "Ignore me," said Mimi holding back the threat of tears, "I'm just being melodramatic." Roxie perched on the dresser and took her hand, "What's troubling you Miranda? You look unhappy." "This just isn't how I thought it would be. When I left Streetcar I thought I'd get a job in a proper musical, not in a place like this." Roxie snatched her hand away, "Well thanks Mimi. Next time you want a job don't ask me. I put my arse on the line to get you this job, don't you dare get all moral on me now." Mimi turned her face away, Roxie's tones making her tears harder to resist, "I'm not getting moral on you Rox and I do appreciate you getting me work but, when you said you worked here, I thought it would be like it is at the Moulin Rouge, classy, here I just feel..." "Cheap?" said Roxie, "Well get used to it Mims. This business isn't all high kicks and frilly knickers, this is the real thing and you need to realise that otherwise you won't survive. I'm going to get changed and, if you don't want to walk home, I suggest you do too." Collecting up her clothes, Roxie left Mimi alone. Changing into her jeans and shirt, Mimi pulled her hair from it's style and let it fall randomly about her shoulders. She wiped off her heavy stage makeup and stared at her reflection, letting her mind wonder onto her favorite daydream. The room disappeared and became a beautiful ivory tower with white roses tumbling down from the balcony upon which she stood. She stared out over the landscape, watching the beautiful white unicorns as they galloped freely below. Two strong yet gentle arms encircled her waist and delicate kisses lighted the curls of her hair. She turned, wrapping her arms around the tall, handsome prince. Mimi knew he was tall and handsome but he was never a clear picture, he wasn't a definite creation. She'd yet to find someone to fill his space. The only thing that felt real was the warmth and protection of his embrace. An impatient knocking brought her back to her senses and harsh reality. "Come in," she called, dreading that it was her manager with his constant complaints and wandering hands. She was only slightly relieved as her boyfriend, Brad, came into the room. They had been together two weeks but already the relationship was becoming sour and Mimi had her suspicions that she wasn't the only woman in his life. "Hey baby," he said kissing her. "Hey," said Mimi pulling back and beginning to stuff her clothes into her dance bag. "Did you have a good night?" asked Brad, not noticing her obvious brush off. "No," said Mimi, "It was crap as always." "Well then I'll have to buy you dinner." "Dinner?" said Mimi, her hopes of Brad's first romantic gesture heightening. "Yeah dinner. We'll grab something down the chippie and head back to mine." "Oh great," said Mimi sarcastically, as Brad once again lowered in her estimations. "I thought you'd like it. Come on, I've seen Rox and told her we're heading off out." Mimi forced a smile as Brad clumsily took her hand and led her from the club.
Having barely touched the disgustingly greasy food, Mimi felt sick and the feeling wasn't helped as Brad, stinking of alcohol, slid onto her, desperately trying to kiss her. "Mimi you know what?" he slurred as she tried to pull away, "You look very, very sexy." "Brad, you're drunk," said Mimi pushing him away. "I'm not," said Brad pinning her down, "I'm perfectly sober." He kissed her. "Brad get off," cried Mimi trying to push him away. "You know you want it Mimi," he said pulling roughly at the buttons of her shirt, "Its about time you lost your V-plates." Hate replacing all her emotions, Mimi kneed him hard and pushed him off her. "Fucking whore," hissed Brad recovering himself. Mimi grabbed her bag and ran to the door without a word.
She headed back to the flat she shared with Roxie in Holborn, in tears. Opening the door, she fled into the front room and threw herself onto the sofa, crying into the cushions. The light clicked on. "Hey Mimi, I didn't expect...Honey, what's wrong?" said Roxie, running to her and hugging her. Mimi clung to her, crying uncontrollably. "Its over Rox. I never want to see that useless bastard again," said Mimi, wiping away her tears with her sleeve. "What happened?" said Roxie sitting beside her. "He doesn't treat me like a woman. Tonight he bought me chips, got drunk and wanted sex. I can't sleep with him, I feel sick just looking at him. I know you'll probably tell me I'm mad and that Prince Charming doesn't exist but when I finally sleep with someone, I want it to be someone I really love and who loves me. Not some bloke who's pissed as an arse and can't even spell his own name," said Mimi. Roxie brushed Mimi's curls back from her face, "I don't think you're mad," she said smiling, "I think you're right. If you believe your fairy tale prince is out there then I hope you find him, you deserve it Mimi." "Thanks honey, that means a lot. Well at least I'm shot of laughing boy, so now I can concentrate on finding Prince whatever-his-name-is," said Mimi. "Well you'd better get your beauty sleep then. Go and dream of your pixies and unicorns. I'll see you in the morning," said Roxie kissing her forehead. She turned to leave. "Roxie?" "Yes?" "Do you think he's out there?" "Maybe. I don't know. Hey, maybe we'll stumble on him tomorrow," said Roxie. "In Soho? I doubt it," said Mimi getting to her feet. "Hey I thought your fairytales taught you that anything was possible," said Roxie, "Just dream Mimi, it's the only way you can stop going mad these days." Mimi got ready for bed and abandoned herself to her dreams. Once again he was with her and she was safe.
Mimi was glad when the time came for her to go to work the next day. The house phone and her mobile hadn't stopped ringing all day, it was Brad and he was driving her insane. "God I hate him," she said, canceling another call as Roxie drove them through the London traffic to Soho. "You're better off shot of him Mimi," said Roxie pulling into a nearby car park and getting out. They walked the narrow, seedy streets to the club. "I always feel so oppressed when I'm here," said Mimi, the darkness making her uneasy. "Its just your imagination," said Roxie, adjusting the strap of her heavy dance bag. Mimi's anxiety lifted slightly as they entered the club.
The night was, once again, awful and Mimi was glad when it was over and she was back in her own clothes. "Thank God we have tomorrow off," she said pulling on the zip of her black knee-highs. She got to her feet and adjusted her skirt. "Yeah, tonight was pretty rough. Those guys were dead drunk. Did you see Brad?" said Roxie, pulling on her sneakers. "Unfortunately," said Mimi, "If looks could kill I'd be six foot under." Roxie laughed, "Oh Mimi some of the things you come out with. Are you ready to go home?" Mimi stuffed the final parts of her costume into her bag, "Yep, don't forget your camera," she said handing the simple Polaroid to Roxie, "I don't know why you take that everywhere with you, you never use it." "You never know when the need will arise," said Roxie as they left the dressing room and wandered into the street. The lights were dim and the air thick with smoke. This time of night was always the worst, the place was filled with men looking for the cheapest whore and drunks looking for a fight. Mimi cursed herself for the short skirt she'd worn despite the heat of the Indian summer. It was September twenty-second and it was meant to be cool but the weather was oppressive and hot, a feeling not helped by Mimi's anxiety. "Isn't this where Dracula jumps out?" said Roxie nudging Mimi's arm. "Yeah and Doctor Van Helsing gets him with a stake through the..." Mimi trailed off as footsteps behind her caught her attention. She turned and saw Brad with the group of drunks from the club close behind. "Fuck its Brad," she hissed. Roxie took her arm, "Just keep walking." "Mimi, baby, where are you going?" said Brad, quickening his step and laying his arm around her shoulders. Mimi nearly retched as the smell of whisky over powered her senses. "Home," she said, shaking him off. "Why don't you come back to mine?" he said. "Goodnight Brad," said Roxie shoving him away, "Now run along with your little friends, there's a good boy." "Yes Mum!" said Brad as his companions laughed, "How about you come too Rox? We could make it a threesome." "I'd rather wipe Ossama Bin Laden's arse," said Roxie pulling Mimi down the path, "Don't look back." "Where are you going ladies? Don't you fancy it?" "Rox I'm scared." "Keep walking." The footsteps behind them quickened. Roxie broke into a run, dragging Mimi round a corner and down a long alley, "I think this leads to...oh no. Dead end," she said as they came to a wall covered in strange graffiti, which looked like a gate. "What's that?" said Mimi running her hands over the silvery markings. "Probably something religious some punk kid put up," said Roxie, "Yuck these crates are full of some sort of gooey crap and its going all over my shoes." Mimi's hand found the central star of the door and she kept it there as Roxie spoke again. "Grim, its rotting melon." Mimi jumped back as the wall creaked and parted, revealing a green, sunlit field behind, "Err Rox..." she said tapping her friend's shoulder as she gazed in wonder at the sight. "What...Fuck!" said Roxie turning to see the field, "That wasn't there two minutes ago." "It just appeared. What do you think it is?" "Why are you asking me? How should I... oh shit," said Roxie as she heard footsteps behind. She turned to see Brad and his companions coming down towards them. "What do we do?" said Mimi holding Roxie's hand tightly. "In there," said Roxie nodding towards the field. "In there?" cried Mimi, "But we..." "It's a better option than facing them. Come on."
Disclaimer- I own nothing but Miranda and Roxanne and a few minor characters. This is a tribute to Tolkien and his works, and those of Peter Jackson.
"An Immortal Love."
The tale of Prince Legolas Naryalin, son of Thranduil, High King of Greenwood the Great and the mortal Miranda Jane Tolkien, honourary Lady of Rivendell and Gondor.
Chapter One.
The smell of beer and cigarettes hung on Mimi's skimpy costume as she ran from the stage with her friend, Roxanne. Flopping down in her dresser chair she stared at her reflection in the theatrical mirror. Her chestnut hair was piled high on her head in elaborate curls and her evergreen eyes were practically hidden by the heavy blue eyeshadow and fake eyelashes she wore. She was nearly twenty, just out of stage school, and working as a dancer at a club called Moonshine in the heart of Soho. The job wasn't what she wanted from life but she was broke and proper theatre jobs were few and far between. "Hey dreamer?" called her friend Roxie. Mimi turned to face her friend. Roxanne Jackson was a total contrast to Mimi. She was a year older, with short blonde curls and a perfect porcelain complexion. She wrapped a dressing gown over her purple sequined top and hot pants. "What are you thinking about Mimi?" she asked. "Nothing," said Mimi with a weak smile, "Its just..." "Just what honey?" "Ignore me," said Mimi holding back the threat of tears, "I'm just being melodramatic." Roxie perched on the dresser and took her hand, "What's troubling you Miranda? You look unhappy." "This just isn't how I thought it would be. When I left Streetcar I thought I'd get a job in a proper musical, not in a place like this." Roxie snatched her hand away, "Well thanks Mimi. Next time you want a job don't ask me. I put my arse on the line to get you this job, don't you dare get all moral on me now." Mimi turned her face away, Roxie's tones making her tears harder to resist, "I'm not getting moral on you Rox and I do appreciate you getting me work but, when you said you worked here, I thought it would be like it is at the Moulin Rouge, classy, here I just feel..." "Cheap?" said Roxie, "Well get used to it Mims. This business isn't all high kicks and frilly knickers, this is the real thing and you need to realise that otherwise you won't survive. I'm going to get changed and, if you don't want to walk home, I suggest you do too." Collecting up her clothes, Roxie left Mimi alone. Changing into her jeans and shirt, Mimi pulled her hair from it's style and let it fall randomly about her shoulders. She wiped off her heavy stage makeup and stared at her reflection, letting her mind wonder onto her favorite daydream. The room disappeared and became a beautiful ivory tower with white roses tumbling down from the balcony upon which she stood. She stared out over the landscape, watching the beautiful white unicorns as they galloped freely below. Two strong yet gentle arms encircled her waist and delicate kisses lighted the curls of her hair. She turned, wrapping her arms around the tall, handsome prince. Mimi knew he was tall and handsome but he was never a clear picture, he wasn't a definite creation. She'd yet to find someone to fill his space. The only thing that felt real was the warmth and protection of his embrace. An impatient knocking brought her back to her senses and harsh reality. "Come in," she called, dreading that it was her manager with his constant complaints and wandering hands. She was only slightly relieved as her boyfriend, Brad, came into the room. They had been together two weeks but already the relationship was becoming sour and Mimi had her suspicions that she wasn't the only woman in his life. "Hey baby," he said kissing her. "Hey," said Mimi pulling back and beginning to stuff her clothes into her dance bag. "Did you have a good night?" asked Brad, not noticing her obvious brush off. "No," said Mimi, "It was crap as always." "Well then I'll have to buy you dinner." "Dinner?" said Mimi, her hopes of Brad's first romantic gesture heightening. "Yeah dinner. We'll grab something down the chippie and head back to mine." "Oh great," said Mimi sarcastically, as Brad once again lowered in her estimations. "I thought you'd like it. Come on, I've seen Rox and told her we're heading off out." Mimi forced a smile as Brad clumsily took her hand and led her from the club.
Having barely touched the disgustingly greasy food, Mimi felt sick and the feeling wasn't helped as Brad, stinking of alcohol, slid onto her, desperately trying to kiss her. "Mimi you know what?" he slurred as she tried to pull away, "You look very, very sexy." "Brad, you're drunk," said Mimi pushing him away. "I'm not," said Brad pinning her down, "I'm perfectly sober." He kissed her. "Brad get off," cried Mimi trying to push him away. "You know you want it Mimi," he said pulling roughly at the buttons of her shirt, "Its about time you lost your V-plates." Hate replacing all her emotions, Mimi kneed him hard and pushed him off her. "Fucking whore," hissed Brad recovering himself. Mimi grabbed her bag and ran to the door without a word.
She headed back to the flat she shared with Roxie in Holborn, in tears. Opening the door, she fled into the front room and threw herself onto the sofa, crying into the cushions. The light clicked on. "Hey Mimi, I didn't expect...Honey, what's wrong?" said Roxie, running to her and hugging her. Mimi clung to her, crying uncontrollably. "Its over Rox. I never want to see that useless bastard again," said Mimi, wiping away her tears with her sleeve. "What happened?" said Roxie sitting beside her. "He doesn't treat me like a woman. Tonight he bought me chips, got drunk and wanted sex. I can't sleep with him, I feel sick just looking at him. I know you'll probably tell me I'm mad and that Prince Charming doesn't exist but when I finally sleep with someone, I want it to be someone I really love and who loves me. Not some bloke who's pissed as an arse and can't even spell his own name," said Mimi. Roxie brushed Mimi's curls back from her face, "I don't think you're mad," she said smiling, "I think you're right. If you believe your fairy tale prince is out there then I hope you find him, you deserve it Mimi." "Thanks honey, that means a lot. Well at least I'm shot of laughing boy, so now I can concentrate on finding Prince whatever-his-name-is," said Mimi. "Well you'd better get your beauty sleep then. Go and dream of your pixies and unicorns. I'll see you in the morning," said Roxie kissing her forehead. She turned to leave. "Roxie?" "Yes?" "Do you think he's out there?" "Maybe. I don't know. Hey, maybe we'll stumble on him tomorrow," said Roxie. "In Soho? I doubt it," said Mimi getting to her feet. "Hey I thought your fairytales taught you that anything was possible," said Roxie, "Just dream Mimi, it's the only way you can stop going mad these days." Mimi got ready for bed and abandoned herself to her dreams. Once again he was with her and she was safe.
Mimi was glad when the time came for her to go to work the next day. The house phone and her mobile hadn't stopped ringing all day, it was Brad and he was driving her insane. "God I hate him," she said, canceling another call as Roxie drove them through the London traffic to Soho. "You're better off shot of him Mimi," said Roxie pulling into a nearby car park and getting out. They walked the narrow, seedy streets to the club. "I always feel so oppressed when I'm here," said Mimi, the darkness making her uneasy. "Its just your imagination," said Roxie, adjusting the strap of her heavy dance bag. Mimi's anxiety lifted slightly as they entered the club.
The night was, once again, awful and Mimi was glad when it was over and she was back in her own clothes. "Thank God we have tomorrow off," she said pulling on the zip of her black knee-highs. She got to her feet and adjusted her skirt. "Yeah, tonight was pretty rough. Those guys were dead drunk. Did you see Brad?" said Roxie, pulling on her sneakers. "Unfortunately," said Mimi, "If looks could kill I'd be six foot under." Roxie laughed, "Oh Mimi some of the things you come out with. Are you ready to go home?" Mimi stuffed the final parts of her costume into her bag, "Yep, don't forget your camera," she said handing the simple Polaroid to Roxie, "I don't know why you take that everywhere with you, you never use it." "You never know when the need will arise," said Roxie as they left the dressing room and wandered into the street. The lights were dim and the air thick with smoke. This time of night was always the worst, the place was filled with men looking for the cheapest whore and drunks looking for a fight. Mimi cursed herself for the short skirt she'd worn despite the heat of the Indian summer. It was September twenty-second and it was meant to be cool but the weather was oppressive and hot, a feeling not helped by Mimi's anxiety. "Isn't this where Dracula jumps out?" said Roxie nudging Mimi's arm. "Yeah and Doctor Van Helsing gets him with a stake through the..." Mimi trailed off as footsteps behind her caught her attention. She turned and saw Brad with the group of drunks from the club close behind. "Fuck its Brad," she hissed. Roxie took her arm, "Just keep walking." "Mimi, baby, where are you going?" said Brad, quickening his step and laying his arm around her shoulders. Mimi nearly retched as the smell of whisky over powered her senses. "Home," she said, shaking him off. "Why don't you come back to mine?" he said. "Goodnight Brad," said Roxie shoving him away, "Now run along with your little friends, there's a good boy." "Yes Mum!" said Brad as his companions laughed, "How about you come too Rox? We could make it a threesome." "I'd rather wipe Ossama Bin Laden's arse," said Roxie pulling Mimi down the path, "Don't look back." "Where are you going ladies? Don't you fancy it?" "Rox I'm scared." "Keep walking." The footsteps behind them quickened. Roxie broke into a run, dragging Mimi round a corner and down a long alley, "I think this leads to...oh no. Dead end," she said as they came to a wall covered in strange graffiti, which looked like a gate. "What's that?" said Mimi running her hands over the silvery markings. "Probably something religious some punk kid put up," said Roxie, "Yuck these crates are full of some sort of gooey crap and its going all over my shoes." Mimi's hand found the central star of the door and she kept it there as Roxie spoke again. "Grim, its rotting melon." Mimi jumped back as the wall creaked and parted, revealing a green, sunlit field behind, "Err Rox..." she said tapping her friend's shoulder as she gazed in wonder at the sight. "What...Fuck!" said Roxie turning to see the field, "That wasn't there two minutes ago." "It just appeared. What do you think it is?" "Why are you asking me? How should I... oh shit," said Roxie as she heard footsteps behind. She turned to see Brad and his companions coming down towards them. "What do we do?" said Mimi holding Roxie's hand tightly. "In there," said Roxie nodding towards the field. "In there?" cried Mimi, "But we..." "It's a better option than facing them. Come on."
