Disclaimer - If I was Tolkien, I would be filthy rich, and not totally broke.

A/N - Yes, another chapter. :-) For everyone out there that has not received constructive criticism from me, please ignore the following: At this time I would like to add - please people, if you're here complaining about a review I gave you, at least have the sense to e-mail me instead of writing up a huge review. If my e-mail address is not working (which is not normal, as it usually works, and if you spell it right it most definitely should) then wait a day or two and try again. Also, if you're e-mailing me to complain, please, spell-check things first so that I don't feel any need to mock you. Thanks.

For the record, I hate Avril Lavigne's music. No offense to anyone that likes it - just know that it's going to be made fun of horrifically in this chapter. Also know that there is some slash in this chapter - bad slash, mind you, but slash all the same. Read at your own risk.

"Dead already?"

I looked up from where I was, slumped over at the base of a tree. "Um, yes. He died about half an hour ago."

Aragorn nodded. "It is as I feared."

Exasperated with the way things were turning out, I ducked out of the way and let the story do its own thing - namely let Aragorn and Legolas sing their song of the winds and dump Boromir's body over the falls. Thankfully, this did not involve Mary Sue singing any tidings of the northwest wind.

Just when I thought things could not get any worse, that perhaps there wouldn't be any more make-out sessions with Haldir for a while, at least, something terrible happened. A large, terrible something.

We arrived in Rohan, where Éowyn (called "the wench" by Lossenlossëwen) tried to steal Haldir's affections, resulting in much angst. Of course, this all had to happen before anyone thought of the hobbits.

On the bright side, after having been flamed five consecutive times by someone calling themself "Friend of Canon", netspeak was completely eliminated from the story. Sure, the plotline was still horrible, Lossenlossëwen was still the uber-sue, and canon was so screwed up that I wasn't sure that anything would ever be the same again, but hey - at least the words coming out of my mouth weren't chatspeak.

(a/n - Alright, Friend of Canon, you win. I won't use abbreviations in the story any longer. Just remember, though, I'm the one writing, and what I say goes! To all my other peeps out there - the story is being moved to fanfiction.net because the moderator says if I don't fix the plot line, he will pull it from the site. Screw him! It's now up under "Final Truths". Just type that into the search engine, and have fun! Love you all, Haldy's girl 25.)

"Haldir," said Lossenlossëwen breathily. "I can't keep this pace much longer. We must rest."

Haldir, who was beginning to have second thoughts himself about running for so long, agreed, and persuaded Aragorn to stop running and let them have some rest.

"We will not reach Rohan for a month at this rate," grumbled the Ranger. "The King awaits us - we cannot tarry!"

Lossenlossëwen gave him a Look. "What," she asked, "is your problem? You know that we cannot linger, and yet you do not drive us on? Surely I can run at least a league further!"

"Shh," said Haldir. "You can't run any further and you know it. There's no point in running yourself into the ground."

"That was a horrible pun," said Lossenlossëwen darkly. "And I can run further. Just watch me."

As if to prove a point, she painfully climbed to her feet and began to run.

"Ow," I yelped pathetically as I tripped and fell flat on my face for the third time. "Owies. There is no hope for mankind. Why did I write a Sue?"

"I'm sure I don't know," griped Haldir as he caught up to where I was. "It certainly wasn't my idea."

I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue. "Does anyone know what happens next?"

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, who were running ahead of us gave me an odd look. "What do you mean, what happens next?" asked Aragorn, pausing mid-step.

"Well, you see, it's like this . . ." I began, and stopped. "Ah, screw it. Let's just put it this way. Éowyn is not the real Éowyn. She's . . . something else entirely. Meaning that it's probably a good idea that you don't talk to her or she might bite your head off. And, oh - Haldir? She thinks that since she can't have Legolas, that you're the next best thing. So she's after you."

"Can't have Legolas?" asked the Elf. "Why ever not?"

I pondered how to best answer this, and decided that it was better just not to think about it. "She just . . . can't. It's because you aren't like the other elves."

Aragorn sighed. "Meaning that he doesn't see women in the same light?"

I nodded, grateful that Aragorn at least knew what I was talking about. "Yeah. Um, in the next chapter, there's a lot of innuendo between you two, so . . ."

Aragorn threw up a hand. "I don't want to hear about it. The less I have to think about Legolas and I as more than friends, the better."

I shrugged. "Well, let's just say that Haldir and I aren't the only ones having lots of time to suck face."

Legolas, Aragorn, Haldir, and Gimli all winced in unison.

"Haldir?" asked Lossenlossëwen. "Are you awake?"

"I'm awake now," he grumbled. "What is wrong, Lossenlossëwen?"

"I'm afraid," said Lossenlossëwen. "I had a dream where I lost you - lost you to the pull of the won ring."

Haldir sighed. "Lossenlossëwen, when'll you learn? I'll never give into the pull of the Ring! Gold is tacky."

"O, ok," said Lossenlossëwen. "Just so long as know you won't."

Haldir smiled at her dreamily. "There is no need to fere, Lossenlossëwen. Ours is a love that is pure and true. There are none that will ever be able to break through the bond between us."

"Gag me with a spork!" I shrieked, pulling away from Haldir's side. "If I've said it once, I've said it a hundred times - this is disgusting!"

Haldir, who had apparently overcome his shock at having to proclaim his love for the Sue, laughed at me. Or rather, he sniggered in my face. "That," he said calmly, "was priceless. There are only so many stories that one runs across that are that wonderful - tell me, did you write that purposefully, or was it all done for laughs?"

I glared at him. "I was a naive, inexperienced writer, all right? I thought that poorly written love scenes were a good idea!" I snapped.

He laughed again. "So it's real? That makes it all the better. Can I get a copy of this, when you're done living through it?"

"No!" I yelled, resisting the urge to slug him. "It's too tramatic, for one thing."

"Traumatic?" asked Haldir. "No - being forced to dress in women's clothing to please Legolas was traumatic. Kissing Aragorn was traumatic. This is just plain bad. Where's that nice Agent? I'm sure he'd want to see it - it'd give him another reason to use his flamethrower on you."

I stared at him blankly. "You are so screwed up," I muttered.

He made a mock bow. "Thank you, my lady. I do try, you know."

"Stupid elves with their stupid perfect hearing!" I mumbled.

"I heard that," Haldir sang out joyfully. "And I'll have you know it's very useful!"

"Oh, go bug Aragorn. I'm not going to listen to you. In fact, I'll be very happy when that torture scene comes . . ."

"Torture scene?" asked Haldir, the color draining out of his face.

"Oh yes," I bluffed, knowing well that what I was about to say was not in the story at all. "Éowyn's into bondage these days, don't you know?"

It was not long before Lossenlossëwen and the rest of the Company arrived in Rohan, only to find things in disarray. Theoden king had been put under a spell by Saruman the White, Wormtongue reigned supreme, and Éowyn was her nomral sluttly self.

Lossenlossëwen knew that if she didn't do *something* she would lose Haldir to the embrace of a mortal, and then to death. So she panicked.

"Haldir," she said, showering him with kisses, "Don't ever leave my side!"

"Don't worry, honey," said Haldir absent-mindedly, eying Éowyn. "I'll neer leaev you."

"It's too late," sobbed Lossenlossëwen. "You've already been lost to that wench and her feminine wiles."

Lossenlossëwen, being a magick handler herself, was sensitive to the spells of others. Upon entering Rohan, she became aware of a powerful love spell being used - a love spell that had been outlawed centures ago by the White Council. All of the Rohans had fallen under its influence - all, that is, except Éomer. It was then that Lossenlossëwen knew who had cast such a spell - Éowyn herself!

I shook my head and blinked as the story dissipated, leaving all of us standing in the bright morning sun. "That was weird," I commented.

"Yes indeed," said Haldir dryly. "But in a good way. Éowyn, you say? She's at least canon. She's not a Sue, at least." He brightened considerably. "Wait - you didn't write any obscenities in that scene! Does this mean what I think it means?"

"That there's going to be lots of pointless angst in the future?" I guessed. "Yes, you're right. There is a lot of pointless angst in the very near future. No romance, just lots and lots of pointless angst."

"No romance?" said Aragorn hopefully. "Does this mean that the scene you hinted at earlier will not take place for at least a brief space of time?"

"Ah, no," I replied guardedly. "You see, in the story, Lossenlossëwen is weeping bitterly when she finds Legolas and Aragorn admitting their true feelings for one another. The weeping bitterly starts around . . . here!"

Lossenlossëwen was depressed beyond words. There was no hope for her, none at all.

(a/n - here is the flashback to earlier that night, like I promised. The past events are in *, thoughts are in , and elfish translations are included at the bottom of the story! O yah - I don't own any of the song lyrics used in this chappie!)

*She was sitting at the table across from him at dinner, trying to catch his eye, only to be interrrupted each time by Éowyn makign some bawdy remark. "So Haldir," she would say, "What is a fine elf like you doing with such a wench like that?", pointing to Lossenlossëwen each time. Lossenlossëwen wasn't stupid. She knew the names that Éowyn called her weren't good.*

Lossenlossëwen sniffled and began to weep. It was because of what had happened during dinner that she had asked Haldir to meet her out here, on the stipulation that if he was still faithful to her, he would come. It had been an hour. Still he had not arrived.

Almost without thinking of what she was doing, Lossenlossëwen began to sing.

"I'm Standing on a bridge, I'm waitin in the dark, I thought that you'd be here by now, Theres nothing but the rain, No footsteps on the ground, I'm listening but theres no sound ," she sang in a voice unmatched by anyone in Middle Earth. She would have gotten farther in the song, only her tears overcame her, and she wasn't able to finish. Knowing that Haldir wasn't going to come, she walked back into the hall, only to stop. She could hear voices, saying the most romantic of things.

"I've known I loved you ever since I lay eyes on you," said a deep voice that reminded her painfully of Haldir's. "There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. Take me. I am yours."

"I do not know that this is right," said another voice, higher, feminine. "I have loved you, too, since the day we first met, but I know that elves love forever, and considering that one of us is mortal and the other immortal, I do not know that it is such a good idea for us to admit our feelings now."

"I - I don't care. Mortality can wait. Kiss me."

Unable to stand it any longer, sure that it was Éowyn and Haldir that she was listening to, she ran to that part of the hall where the voices were coming from . . .

Only to find Legolas and Aragorn kissing madly.

I blinked, took a step back, and blinked again. So that was what a male on male kiss looked like. I didn't think I'd be writing any more slash soon.

"Uh," I said, trying to remain calm while making my presence known. "Uh, hi."

Legolas and Aragorn immediately broke apart. There was a resounding snap as canon, already stretched to the limit, shot back into place. Without warning, everything changed. No longer was the hall a carbon copy of something out of the movie - instead, it looked like its book counterpart. Suddenly, I found myself with an arrow pointed at my head, and a knife against my ribs.

"Um, I'm sorry?" I squeaked.

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