(A/N: Welcome to more random things falling from my head. This started because, in my shameless efforts to get more readers for Wings, I decided to write a Mary Sue parody. Everybody hates Mary Sues, and everybody loves watching Mary Sues get their just desserts, right? But how to write an original variant on that old theme? So I decided to introduce the male equivalent of a Mary Sue, a guy who inserts himself into canon in hope of pursuing an attractive female character, which I will call a Joseph Bill just for the hell of it.)

Disclaimers: I don't own any real LotR locations or characters. Nor do I own Severus Snape.

To the Halls of Mandos in a Backpack

Prologue: There's Something About Arwen

            Crowbait returned to reality with a start. A painful start. It had happened again. And he had been so close this time. He had actually touched her hand! She had given the Evenstar to him! And then, he had leaned in for the kiss, what promised to be the first of many for Glorfinrod, son of the forbidden passion between Glorfindel and Idril Celebirndale, slayer of four Balrogs, hero of the battle of Dagolrad, possessor of Terrya, the Elven ring of earth, and destined by fate to reclaim the throne of Imladries. He would finally succeed in kissing her. She was about to be his!

            At which point, things went to the Halls of Mandos in a backpack. Again. Aragorn took off one of his arms with the sword and set his shirt alight with a torch. Elrond removed his other arm with an elven sword/staff thing and, in the same smooth motion, grabbed the Evenstar and returned it to its original owner. No less than three arrows (one each from Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir) hit him in the chest. And Arwen, as if awaking from a spell, drew that sexy sword of hers and plunged it into his groin. Glorfinrod staggered. Elrond kicked the two arms into the stream before withdrawing, giving Arwen the honor of shoving the mortally wounded fiend off the bridge. As Glorfinrod drifted away, fading into darkness, he heard the melodious voice of Enya flowing across the air. And then

            Crowbait was back at his desk in the dark corner of his apartment. The incomplete and unposted fanfic was gone from the computer screen and erased from the hard drive. Curses. Foiled. Again. Why couldn't the canon characters just let him have Arwen? After all, every single one of his manifestations was superior to them in every way. Glorfingon, Glorfinor, Glorfingolfin, Glorfinarfin, Glorfingol, and now Glorfinrod. All examples of the elvendom of the first age perfected in the third. And now nothing but memories, dead, neither seen nor heard of by any but himself. Why was he cursed so?

            From across the hall he heard a scream.

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            Theodosia King screamed. All her anger and frustrations rushed forth violently from her mouth. Had she been less distraught, she might have commended herself for doing an excellent Ringwraith impression, but in her current state she could think nothing but raw, painful emotion. "Why me? Why am I cursed so?"

            Theodosia was among the most prolific reviewers of fanfiction on the site. She knew Tolkien canon like the contours of Viggo Mortensen's face, but that didn't mean that she objected to original characters. On the contrary, she reveled in them. She was the perfect beta for Mary Sue writers; she corrected typos and caught specks of uncanon dust in the tapestry of their prose while turning a blind eye to the log in said tapestry that was the original character. Countless writers of fanfic had eagerly asked when they would see some of her own writing on the site, and she could not respond. She had written more than a dozen stories, all featuring her (or a more perfect version of herself) in Middle-earth. There was Theodosia in the Shire, Theodosia at the Prancing Pony, Theodosia and the Ranger, Theodosia to the Rescue, Theodosia vs. the Ringwraiths, Theodosia the Healer, Theodosia's Advice to the Council, The Fellowship of Theodosia, Theodosia in Lorien, Theodosia Rides Again, Theodosia Saves Aragorn from the River, Theodosia and the Art of Kicking Ass, Theodosia and the King, Queen Theodosia of Gondor, and Theodosia Saves Estel from the Twins' Evil Prank. All had disappeared from her computer as though they had never existed the moment she uploaded them, only to appear on the pages of other writers a few days later, only with her name changed to that of another writer. She had complained the first couple times this had happened, but she had no files to back up her claim, and since the other writers could produce the originals from their computers, she had no choice but to concede. She had first imagined there was some software glitch that was screwing her, but then she had begun to hear elven laughter issuing from her computer. Today, as Theodosia Finds Athelas and Gets a Reward from Aragorn had vanished into the cyber wormhole, Theodosia swore she could see the face of Arwen laughing at her from the computer screen.

            And speaking of swearing, Theodosia's scream had by this point degenerated into a stream of expletives so profuse that her cat had covered his ears with his paws and was meowing pitifully, almost like a human moaning in pain. Before the pain could continue, however, there was a knock on the door. With one last "shit," she stood up and opened it. She was greeted by her neighbor from across the hall, a dirty young man who had all of the lack of hygiene and none of the evil charm of Severus Snape. Ordinarily, she would have slammed the door in his face or, failing that, staged a curt conversation at the threshold of her sanctuary and then slammed the door in his face, but in her emotional state she was unable to do either and in short order they had exchanged their tales of fanfiction woe.

            Finally being able to tell another person of her curse lifted a huge weight off her chest (and not just the added padding she used to attract Aragorn in her stories) and set her cunning mind in motion. "You want Arwen. I want Aragorn. Neither of us can get them. What if we write a story together? If Arwen falls for you, she won't give me any trouble over Aragorn. And vice versa. What do you say?"

            "I'm game," Crowbait responded. "Your computer or mine?"

            "Better do mine. At least on my computer it doesn't disappear until I try to upload. Pull up a chair. We have a lot of work ahead of us."

            And so it begins.

            Crowbait and Theodosia King are writing together.

            Mary Sue has met Joseph Bill.

            Look out, Canon.