Maria-Susannah's Worst Nightmare

By: Tindomiel

It took me a while to determine the exact purpose of this story. This fic plans to be a long-term project of an Anti-Sue. I will die before I write a full-blown Mary Sue seriously. This work attempts to parody the Sue and the typical Sue stories somewhat. It is not planned to be a reality-Sue - where would be the fun in that? -Though it will incorporate aspects of Real Life and those things Sue writers find too icky and leave out; show the truth about Middle earth, if you like. Tolkien's characters will be In character as much as possible, save for when I feel the need to exploit, and OCs are my own. The Mary Sue is a main character, but there is a reason.

The overall purpose of this story, shall we say, is to punish the Mary Sue as much as possible.
Part one

Mariah-Susannah Aschiara Larose Elessariel Smith (Though most called her Susie) shook back her astoundingly beautiful long golden hair, tucking it behind her ear, and kept on walking from the bus stop. The rain never ceased to pour, and her shoes were getting wet. Oh, if only she'd remembered her umbrella. But there was only a little way left, and she saw the friendly crumbling building that was Mansfield High School get nearer.

Yes, she is a Mary-Sue. It's pretty obvious by now.

One could almost tell by the way her beautiful golden, almost multicoloured hair shone in the meagre daylight, it was a golden blond, no, a silvery black, no wait, it was a nutty brown, no wait . . .

The way her eyes always sparkled like she put glitter eye drops in them, in a way unachievable by coloured contacts. They shone with the light of 100,000 stars, or maybe a flamethrower.

The way her skin was so perfect, glowing and acne free. Foundation? Acrylic paint, more like.

Her rosy lips, like rose buds. If you had to describe them, you could call them 'kissable', after which you would probably need a cold shower.

Her curved, perfect and ample bosom. She was only 15, but her bra size was huge. The word 'pert' crept into play.

But she was not just beautiful. She was also shallow and moronic, but those two qualities are not important at the present.

She had a destiny to fulfil, and this miserable Tuesday, of all days, was it. Today would be the day that her destiny would come to seek her. She had a remarkable secret to hide, and today, it would be revealed for the world to see. Whether we want to see it is a different issue altogether.

And she was also late for school. Her watch said 8:40 am. Ten minutes late. Mariah-Susannah cursed herself for her tardiness.

Pulling her school bag taut over her shoulders, she made her way uphill to the school. Damned bus, it had to break down in the middle of the road. Now she was late for school. She broke into a trot, trying to get into the shelter of the building. She saw some other latecomers running in front and behind her, recognising some as her classmates.

There was Rory Stevens, a pudgy little boy, from the year below. He waved stupidly at her, and she gave a small grin. Alicia Wells, a brunette in her form who looked like she was descended from budgerigars. And there, pushing her bicycle along (students were not allowed to ride within the premises) and hauling her large violin case was Ginny. Well, Ginny was her nickname. Susie didn't know what her true name was. She'd never bothered to ask. Ginny wasn't even interesting.

Susie always thought the world would be a much better place if everyone were just little more like Susie.

She watched as the girl tripped over her violin case, the bicycle falling on top of her. So typical, she thought, tutting mentally to herself and walked on. The rain had eased slightly, and she had reached the main door of the school, which had a plaque of the school's symbol on it.

She pulled the handle on the door open and tried to remember what lesson she was going to. A teacher walked casually out of the building.

"Oh hi, Susie. This is unlike you to be late." He said to the pretty student. Like many of the younger male teachers, he had been very taken with her; not to mention some older male teachers as well. Susie found she often didn't need to WORK in lessons to earn good grades.

"Sorry sir, the bus broke down." She said in her sweetest voice. Mr. Ashleigh paused for a minute, taken aback. How could anyone speak so beautifully? For a moment he wondered why the hell he was out in the rain.

"Hurry up and get to your lesson, you're soaking wet!" he said finally, recovering his senses.

"Yes sir."

"My, this is some British weather, to be sure. Glad I got my 'brolly."

And he walked away cheerfully. Susie shook her mane of hair to loose it of some of the rainwater. Her watch said 8:45 am.

And that was when the rumblings started.

A break appeared in the density of grey clouds, to reveal an even greyer sky. A chill wind blew her hair back. She gasped. This would be the day.

Destiny was set.

--But fate stood in the way, and smashed its face in.
Meanwhile, in a universe called Ea, a world called Arda, a land named Middle Earth, and a realm by the name of Rivendell...
You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!" Elrond proclaimed, striking his best pose to an inaudible fanfare. The nine members of the Fellowship in front of him looked on politely.

There was a pause.

"Yay?" said one of the hobbits, probably Pippin, who is loath to make such remarks.

Elrond was stuck. He had rehearsed all of what he was going to say at the council, and it had gone smoothly. They had decided the only way to get rid of the ring was to chuck it in a volcano and the valiant Perian Frodo had 'volunteered'. Then some more people volunteered to go with him.

It had all worked out. Sauron would be overthrown; Elves would live happily ever after in the West, yada-yada-yada.

And yet he wasn't sure. This quest . . . mission . . . thing relied too much on luck. The group seemed to have no idea what to do next, and Elrond made a mental note to remember a map for them. He should help them more. It seemed wrong to send 9 individuals on a life-or-death mission, when nearly half of them couldn't even use a sword to chop carrots. Well, maybe Sam, but the others were, frankly, useless. Elrond felt a sigh occurring inside his mind.

If only there was an easier way, another way, he thought to himself. And then:

"There is another way." A voice spoke, deep and sonorous.

Heads turned to see Glorfindel standing alone, framed in the gateway that lead from the sunlit patio to the rest of the house, a large book clasped in his arms.

"I'm sorry, what did you say, my friend?" Elrond asked.

"I said, there is another way, Elrond."

Elrond felt flustered.

"Haven't we already discussed that?" he snapped irritably, "You should know better Glorfindel. The Ring must be destroyed!"

"I know, I know. The ring must be destroyed. You have said. But I was talking about the quest. There is a way we could guarantee the success of the mission. Middle Earth stands on the brink of destruction. You know that. This Quest is a risk, a very large risk. One mistake and they could fail and Middle Earth would be doomed."

"--We have no other choice,"

"—I realise that, but wouldn't it be wonderful if we had assurance? A way we could secure the quest's success?"

The council had gone very quiet. He had got their attention. Glorfindel continued.

"I have been reading about the history of the ring in your library, lord, and also on the history of Sauron. And I stumbled upon something." He held out the dusty green volume in his hand.

"That's not one of mine," Elrond said, "All my books are leather-bound."

"Nevertheless, I found this, in your bookshelves." He continued, "And I read it. And it turns out to be very interesting. Let me show you some."

The council felt a long lecture coming up again, and they resumed their seats. Frodo tucked the ring around his neck once more, much to the attention of the man from Gondor. Supper felt like a long way away, thought Frodo longingly.

Glorfindel cleared his throat and read a passage from the book, his voice low and deep.

"'Legend tells of a prophecy; A prophecy that may or may not come true:

'There is one that is not of this world, yet can guarantee the survival of this one. It is a strange phenomenon, an anomaly known as, in literal terms, Avaniel. Lost Star. The anomaly takes the form of a female from another world, destined to come to this one, taking a great burden upon her shoulders to save many lives. She can appear out of nowhere at random, as is the work of Destiny, or she can be Summoned, through a magically created portal between the worlds. She is said to be fairer than Luthien and any woman alive, and has great skill with weapons as well as being very powerful with magics. She may even know the fate of this world, as well as having the capability to change it, beyond the skill of the Valar.' "

Glorfindel paused.

"It goes on like that for some time." He continued normally, "The point is, we can bring this 'Avaniel' here, to Middle Earth, and she can join the Fellowship!"

Voices circulated around the council. It was uproar. It was worse than when Gimli insulted the elves. Everyone was talking at the same time, and everyone wanted to be heard.

"Its is folly," said one of the Elves, "We have already come to a decision, we do not need this 'Avaniel', especially if she is a girl. The plan is set, we will prevail over Sauron!"

"How can it be folly? This girl obviously has super powers beyond us. How good it would be if she were on our side? Fairer than Luthien? I for one would like to meet her. If she joined the Fellowship, with her powers, we would be guaranteed to win!"

"I agree," said another voice, "We could fail. We could all die. Every single one of us. Our fate depends of these nine walkers. To be frank, I would be far more assured if our fate depended on TEN."

"Don't be stupid, there is a reason there are nine. There are nine in a fellowship to counteract the nine nazgul. It's the power of the number."

"A fat lot that'll do," cried Gloin, who had remained very quiet throughout the council, "Nine travellers on foot, versus nine armed wraiths on horses. Does anyone here else spot the advantage?" He avoided making eye contact with his son for a few moments.

"Gandalf, I'm worried," said Frodo to the grim old wizard beside him, amidst the noise, "Do they really think this girl from another world will guarantee our success and survival? I would rather trust Strider."

"As would I, my young hobbit, but we should not doubt the words of Lord Glorfindel. He is wise and experienced. He knows what he's talking about. Yet there could be a mistake. If we should bring the girl here, we would need a tremendous amount of power. And that would mean magic. Elrond cannot afford to use magic, as there is a risk he could expose himself, and all of Rivendell to Sauron's watchful gaze. He would be putting Rivendell in danger."

"But if this girl would mean we win—"

"—The final decision lies with Elrond, my dear Baggins, you should not concern yourself with it. If this girl is as strong as the prophecy says, then she could be a strong ally in the time to come. Then I would not mind to having her in the fellowship. A lady! It would make a change, someone to cook, clean, darn my socks . . ."

And he dazed into reverie. Frodo continued to sit and look worried at everything, and topping it off with a small yet adorable pout.

A few yards away, Elrond was doing the same (minus the pout). In the face of his worries, this had seemed to good to be true, but there was always the risk of endangering Rivendell if he used powerful magic with his ring. This girl would be the end of his worries, a guarantor! It sounded too good to be true. Perhaps it was. Yet even a wise man will enter a gingerbread house when he needs food and shelter, taking care to step over the booby traps . . .

But if it would mean that Frodo . . .

The young halfling had endured too much. Elrond felt guilty every time he thought about the morgul wound Frodo had received. How many more hurts would he have to endure? The ring was a burden, and he had already suffered too much. He owed Frodo. At least he could give him his survival, with this Avaniel, even if it meant putting himself at risk.

"I have decided." He spoke suddenly. The crowd fell silent almost instantly. Glorfindel stepped forward nervously.

"Well, then, lord Elrond, what is your decision?"

"We will Summon this girl, this 'Avaniel', and allow her to join the fellowship, even though it means we will have ten. I feel this is the right thing to do. It would be wrong if we did not grasp this opportunity." A few murmured in agreement. "How will this portal work?" he said, turning back to Glorfindel.

"Well, it basically creates a vortex from the weather in the sky which breaks the barriers between worlds. The vortex will seek her out and bring her to us. But the book says we have to lure her."

"Lure her?! We will have to trick her into coming here? That sounds very dishonest. And I do not like the idea of a vortex. It sounds dangerous."

Glorfindel could see Elrond was already beginning to have doubts.

"No, no, it is nothing of the sort. She will know she is coming here; it is her Destiny to come here and save the world, but it will also be her destiny to fall in love."

"With whom?"

"An eligible Elven bachelor, of course! He will need to stand at the other end of the portal, it is important that he is the first thing she sees of this world, as this will remind her of her destiny. Then she will travel through the portal."

Elladan and Elrohir, who had heard the conversation all too clearly about the Elven bachelor bit, slipped through a side door and vanished.

Elrond thought for a moment. He had not seen his sons disappear.

"Bachelor . . ." he muttered to himself, "Elven bachelor. Ah ha!" he cried, "Elladan, Elrohir! Come here and do something good for the sake of Middle Earth!"

But they were gone. His first choice was gone. His eyes swept around the council members, searching for another eligible Elven bachelor. Then it inexplicably landed on the representative of the realm of Mirkwood, the son of King Thranduil.

"Legolas Thranduillion." He said simply. The young elf squirmed. "You know what it is I ask of you. Will you do it for the land you love?"

The elf sighed.

"I am willing to do anything for the land I love." He said, "and I will commit myself to this girl, if she really is fairer than Luthien and the Evenstar. I will protect her and dote on her with my life."

There was a murmur of approval from the crowd.

Young people nowadays, Elrond thought mentally, they'd do anything for show.

"Very well then, Lord Glorfindel, prepare the vortex. Will it need a spell, or just raw magic?"

"You will need to chant a spell."

"I am no wizard, why not Mithrandir?"

"The vortex will be based in the air, not in fire." Said Glorfindel simply. No one else except perhaps Gandalf understood this statement. No one else knew who had the rings of power. Gandalf stepped forward.

"I will aid you, lord Elrond. But you will have to perform the magic yourself." He said. Elrond nodded.

"Very well then," he said, raising his voice to a commanding tone, "Glorfindel, get everything ready."

It was not long before everything was prepared. There was a large star symbol, chalked onto the stone patio under Elrond's feet. He stood at the edge of the star. The council remained seated in a circle, watching precariously. Only Gandalf seemed to be at ease. He sat watching patiently, as Glorfindel scattered reddish spicy-smelling herbs in the centre of the circle-star.

"Glorfindel?" said Elrond nervously, as if tottering on his two feet, "will this endanger Rivendell? You know I cannot use Vilya." He asked, taking care to replace the word 'me' with 'Rivendell'

"Fear not. You could perform the spell with three twigs, tree sap and a toadstool, out in the wild. This is merely tradition. It's a placebo." He said, indicating the star design on the floor. Elrond acknowledged this, but it did not comfort him.

He stepped forward when all was done, breathing heavily, grasping the open book in his hand. His finger directing the page, his lips murmured the mantra that would bring Susie to Middle Earth. He traced each syllable, and never stopped thinking about how silly this was. The words were Quenya, but the true meaning of the verses was quite unknown to him. This is the right thing to do, he told himself over and over again.

Then, quite suddenly, he felt a breeze.

It was a calm, cooling breeze, and he paused momentarily before starting again, speaking each word out aloud with all the force and power he could muster. The breeze increased into a strong wind, and it circulated around the circle of people, blowing people's hair against their faces. It continued to increase in intensity, but the council members remained in their seats, unnerved.

He did not notice his foot scuffing the edge of the chalk star diagram, rubbing a corner off the star.

At the other end, in another world, the wind changed direction.

Elrond continued speaking, though he could hardly hear himself, and on the last syllable, the gale-like wind circulated one last time, before twisting itself into a spiral like form, twirling almost leisurely in the centre of the star diagram, making the crimson herbs rise up in a mini tornado-like formation. The spiral of air rose up, elongating in the stiff air, and there was hush of held breaths from the council. Elrond found the air so taut he could hardly draw breath.

It was definitely tornado defined now. Spiralling into the air, it twisted and turned, as if stumbling over crags in the atmosphere. The twister was at high speed, but Elrond and the others felt only a gentle breeze.

In a sudden burst, it broke into the sky with a silent, earth-shattering roar, before spiralling back down to earth with twice the voltage. It was glowing now, radiating an eerie light, the sort that lighting casts on a midnight sky.

"Legolas!" Glorfindel cried out, as the electrifying portal stopped dead in the centre of the chalk star, though it continued to spin on itself, "Stand ready to receive the girl! She will come through any minute!"

"I am ready." He said, with a grim determination to his voice.

Rivendell waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.
"My, this IS some British weather." Mr. Ashleigh remarked irritably. His umbrella had just been turned outward again, and he tried to put it back, while the rain lashed down all the time.

For the latecomers outside, trying to get to the school building was becoming a battle of will. It was taking great strength just to stand up straight against the wind, which was quickly turning into a gale. But no, the 36-year-old teacher thought, hurricanes just didn't happen in England. There was a huge crack of lightning. He jumped.

Susie said nothing. She had seen the signs. And it didn't surprise her one bit when a huge gust of wind twisted away just inches from where she was standing, and coil into a twister. She closed her eyes and felt the wind rustle through her hair, making it billow out dramatically in a veil of gold.

She heard the girl Ginny scream behind her when she saw the mini tornado in the air. It must have seemed quite terrifying to passer-bys. And all the time, the twister was descending to ground level. It grew bigger and bigger, and faster and faster, in an unnatural way.

She knew it was coming for her. Her sixth sense told her so. Her seventh sense told her so as well, but she never paid attention to that one.

Now would be the time to meet her destiny. Her eyes followed the descent of the snake-like tornado. It was like a stream of fabric, entirely made of air. It seemed to radiate light. It was a wormhole.

When Ginny screamed again, Mr. Ashleigh finally saw what was going on.

And so did everyone else.

Panic seemed to spill out like an atomic blast over the teenagers and teacher, who tried to remember (calmly of course) what to do in emergency situations (apart from remaining calm). He failed, needless to say.

"OK, everybody, REMAIN CALM!" he yelled, but it would have been a miracle if anybody heard him. The wind had accelerated to such a speed that all noise was drowned out. Students and teachers from inside the school had come out to see what was going on. No doubt they had a nasty shock.

"Fucking HELL!" Susie heard one boy remark, and even that was drowned out by the vortex, which was stumbling and twitching through the air. It all looked like something out of the X-Files.

The upside-down whirlpool of air snaked through the sky, and then it came to the ground, lying on its side, still, the other end spiralling back into the heavens. Susie was somewhat reminded of the Wizard of Oz. The opening was large enough to walk through, but all she could see through it was sheen of rippling water. It was too bright to see through.

She stepped forward, ignoring the shouts from her schoolmates when they realised what she was going to do.

The vortex twitched as she approached, moving a little temperamentally, but she ignored it.

"NO!" she heard Ginny yell behind her, but she ignored that as well.

She neared the mouth of the vortex, which was still twitching, shielding her eyes against the glare, and quite suddenly, she saw a face.

It was the face of a young man, a beautiful, almost dazzling young man with blond hair and bright eyes. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. She was drawn to him. Feeling a curious sensation in her abdomen and a racing pulse in her chest, her feet placed themselves one in front of the other and she walked gracefully into the opening of the vortex.

And then it twitched again, like a hiccough. For a moment, Susie was dazed, but she continued walking.

The vortex gave a violent jerk.

Her foot caught at the edge of an eddy of wind, and she found herself hurled backward against the ground. She gave a small cry, and her head fell back against cold stone ground with a hard violent sound. She was unconscious.

Screams of terror erupted around the schoolyard. They increased, as the twister started moving again. It was flaying out of control -- something had gone wrong. It snaked and writhed, like a fireman's hosepipe, while Mariah-Susannah lay unconscious on the tarmac, a trickle of blood seeping out from under her hair.

Amidst the panic and terror of the teachers and students, both of which were trying to flee the scene, the girl Ginny tried to reach Susie. She couldn't see, because her hair was being blown against her face, and she tripped over her bicycle continuously. All around her was the sound of the howling wind, and a violent whooshing sound.

Then quite suddenly, Ginny felt herself being lifted from the ground.

First of all, she thought, 'I must be dead', and then 'this is a dream', and finally, 'maybe I've been taking drugs without knowing it, and I'm currently on a High.'

But there was no mistaking it. She was being dragged into the eddy of wind that was the brilliant vortex. Desperately holding onto her violin, she wrapped an ankle around her bike, hoping the weight would drag her down.

She knew it wasn't working when she saw her bicycle being lifted off the ground with her, her stripy sock caught in the chain.

This isn't happening, she reminded herself feverishly, at least, not happening to me. Did the vortex come for Susie? I always knew there was something about Mary, or Susie, or whatever her name is this week.

She tried to scream, but gave up, seeing as there was no point and no one to hear her; and she had one last look of her school, which was now deserted, apart from an unconscious Mary-Sue on the ground, before the portal swallowed her up completely, weights and all, and she began her journey to, and through, Middle Earth.

Oh what the hell, Ginny thought, and screamed as loud as she could.

Susie awoke to a splitting headache. She allowed herself a ladylike whimper, but there was no one to hear her. Her head spun round as she tried to see anyone near. The grounds were completely empty. Not surprising really, seeing as what had just happened. In the distance, she could faintly hear the sound of a fire engine. Her fists clenched by themselves.

It was not difficult to understand what had just happened. Ginny was gone, as well as that squeaky bike of hers and the black violin case. Susie rubbed her head to ease the pain, and saw that her hands were covered in blood from her head injury. There was not a lot of blood, but the pain was dull and throbbing.

Damn that girl. How dare she steal someone else's Destiny?! Her breathing became ragged as she thought about it. This was unfair. She could imagine the fool now, cavorting in HER paradise land, meeting the man that was to be HER lover, hers.

A new feeling inspired within Mary Sue. She had just been robbed of her legacy and destiny by a fool of a girl who could not win a beauty pageant for bovines, and had the magical power of an ant in a jar of jam, not to mention the fact she couldn't defend herself for her life. She was totally unfit! Yet it was SHE went through the portal!!

Mary Sue was feeling murderous.

To be continued . . .