"It began about a year or so ago. Manwë had finally broken down and allowed Valinor to be wired for cable…"
"You have cable?"
"Doesn't everyone?"
"Good point. Please continue…"
"As I was saying," Glorfindel resumed, giving her an irritated glance at having been interrupted, "Manwë had allowed cable to be brought into Valinor, so naturally, the first thing Elladan and Elrohir did was sign us up for DSL."
"DSL…you have computers in Valinor?"
"Of course…we're not living in the Stone Age, you know…and would you please refrain from interrupting? I am losing my train of thought."
"My apologies…"
"Where was I? Oh, yes…DSL. Now, the twins, being the twins, immediately became well versed in the mechanics of the Internet, and again, being who they are, immediately typed in their own names to see what would pop up."
"Oh, no…"
"Oh, yes…it was quite amazing, actually. Literally thousands of pages that talked about them popped up. Or about us, really. Thousands! Tens of thousands! You can't imagine…oh, of course you can, being who you are," he said, smirking at her. "Once again, being the twins, it also didn't take them long to find the, er…adult webbed sites. Of which, it seems, you are a charter member."
"Web sites. Not webbed. Web."
Glorfindel shot her another irritated look. "I stand corrected. May I continue?"
"Please…"
"Thank you. It was on several of these sites that we found some of your stories. It was also through these sites that we found out about something called "a Yeehaw group."
"Do you mean a "Yahoo" group?"
"Oh, yes…Yahoo…pardon me."
"Oh, good grief. You've been to the groups?"
"Been there? My dear, we are all members."
"NO!"
"YES! Why are we shouting? Have you suddenly lost your hearing?" He shook his head at her, using one finger to close her mouth, which had, at that point, dropped wide open.
Continuing, he said, "When we realized that no one in these groups actually knows who anyone else is, we found it a great deal of fun to join in…we belong to Little Balrog…Elf Pervs…ElvenLords…Elves R Us, Imladris Slash, Halla Quenta, and," he continued blushing a bit, "Glorfindel of Imladris, to name a few."
"What are your screen names?" she asked, unable to curb her curiosity.
"Oh, no…that would take the fun out of it, wouldn't it?" he replied, shaking one long, elegant finger at her. "We've all spent hours and hours reading and posting on those groups. Actually, I have question, if you would be so kind…"
"Sure…what is it?"
"There is one particular element that we can't quite figure out…who are these muses everyone seems to have, and why do they usually have our names?"
"Well…actually…we kind of…it's hard to explain…they're fashioned after you, and we use them to inspire us as writers."
"I see…Legolas is not going to be pleased. He's been quite miffed at your muse who seems to have his name, but continuously prances about in nothing but some type of pink tutu."
"Yeah…that's my Leggy, alright."
"In either case, this brings me to the reason for my visit. First, I must apologize for landing in your closet. It was not intentional…Mithrandir was aiming for the front door, but evidently, he's become a bit rusty."
"Oh…you're forgiven."
"Thank you most kindly. Secondly, the reason I've come is to ask you to come for a visit."
"A visit…to Valinor…me…a human…in Valinor…with you…a visit…in Valinor…"
"I don't believe that constitutes a complete sentence, but I get the idea. Yes, a visit with me to Valinor."
"Why?"
"Curiosity. We've read so many stories, some based on fact, others not…putting us in all types of situations with Eru alone knows how many partners…we became very curious about the type of people who write these stories. Where on earth do you people get these ideas from?"
"From our imaginations."
"Lovely. Did your mothers drop all of you on your collective heads as infants?"
"That was not necessary."
"Neither is dressing one of us up in nothing but a pink tutu."
"Actually, I consider that quite necessary."
"Hence the "dropping you on the head as infant" theory."
"Are all Elves this exasperating?"
"Come to Valinor and find out."
"Why me?"
"We picked your name out of a hat."
"Oh," she said, rather disappointed. She had hoped for something just a teensy bit more meaningful than a scrap of paper drawn out of someone's sombrero. "What do you get out of this?"
"Satisfaction of our curiosity - from the horse's mouth, so to speak - no insult intended, of course," Glorfindel said with a half smile.
"Of course," she answered, narrowing her eyes at him, not believing him for an instant.
"You, of course, get to see us as we really are…perhaps use that information for a story."
She considered for a moment - as if she actually needed to think about it.
"See you as you all really are? Going about your everyday business?" she asked, trying to look undecided, chewing on a fingernail.
"Yes."
"Are you sure there aren't any tutus?"
"No tutus."
"Damn."