The Lands of Midlearth

Chapter 5-

Plans and Disguise

When Morgan awoke, she immediately wished she hadn't. She could feel the Mary-Sues around her.

"Is she awake yet?" one asked.

"I don't think so," another replied with a high, fluttery voice. "I'll check."

There was a moment of silence.

"Are you awake yet, Morgan?" the Sue shouted in Morgan's ear. Morgan shouted in agony, flailed, and fell off of the bed. Colorful language flowed from her mouth.

"Ooooh," Ara said, shaking a finger. "You shouldn't say things like that. It's not very ladylike."

Morgan glared. Ara replied with a hurt look, sort of like a kicked puppy, and the Sue shuffled dejectedly out of the room, probably heading in Legolas's direction for comfort, wherever he was.

Then Morgan noticed the other Sue.

"Mae govannen," she said. "Nan Nacilme. Nan mellon." She was an elf. It was easy enough to tell from the pointed ears, dark, ridiculously shiny hair, and large gray-blue-green-silver eyes.

"How do I know if you are a friend, Nacilme?" Morgan replied. Just because she could speak Quenya rather badly wasn't going to convince Morgan that this new elf was truly a friend.

"Nen!" Nacilme insisted.

"Dearie, being able to speak in a rather broken form of Quenya will not convince me that you are, indeed, my friend," Morgan said. Nacilme sagged slightly.

"I apologize, Agent Morgan," Nacilme bowed. "However, I must-…"

"What did you call me?" Morgan interrupted, sitting forward slightly.

She paused. "…Agent…?" she said carefully. Her eyes darted quickly to the door, then back to Morgan.

"Why did you call me that?" Morgan asked. The metaphorical temperature dropped several degrees, going from chilly to downright cold.

"You are an agent of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum, aren't you?" Nacilme asked, her tone slightly desperate. "I'm sure you are, you must be! I have to help you, help you to avoid Them."

Morgan looked at Nacilme, and quirked an eyebrow. This was a Mary-Sue addressing her as though she was a friend. Was there nothing sane in this world?

"Them?" she asked after a moment's pause. She didn't trust the 'Sue, of course, but it wouldn't hurt to get some more information. After all, she never said she was from the PPC, and most 'Sues had the attention span of a deranged weasel, so she probably didn't remember what she last said…

"You know of whom I speak," Nacilme dropped her voice to a soft murmur. "The Mary-Sues are after you. Outside of Mirrkwud they have already begun to search. They have orders from the Tari Palanti. They will be desperate as not to fail."

Morgan shrugged. "Why be after me? I'm not important at all."

"Morgan, please don't play dumb," Nacilme replied. "I can help you. You have to trust me."

"I have no reason to trust you," Morgan said bluntly, "and I wouldn't trust you further than I could throw an Ent."

"You won't get two miles without my help."

"We'll see, won't we."

"I want the Mary-Sues out of here just as much as you do," Nacilme said, trying a different approach. "If you'd just let me help you, I could get you where you need to go. The geography changes too much for your knowledge of Middle-earth to be helpful."

Morgan raised an eyebrow at that first comment.

Nacilme sighed, and began to explain herself.

"They took my story, all right? I want it back. I wasn't a Mary-Sue before, but it was taken over by some mad girl and I got turned into this. I want my story back, and you want to get home. I think we may be able to help each other."

Morgan thought about this. Nacilme did have a point. She wouldn't get far in this world using canonical knowledge, and if all those 'Sues really were looking for her… well, it might be best to have with her a… native, so to speak.

"All right…" Morgan conceded. "I suppose it's in both our interests…"

"Quite," Nacilme replied.

"But… how are we going to get out of here without being seen?"

"Well, either way they will see you," she finally said. "If you stay, they will eventually enter Mirrkwud Palace. By that time they will have probably already figured out that you were here. All Mary-Sues gravitate here, Larian, or Ravendale. At times they will go to the Shyre, sometimes Rahenn. Popular places from those movies, really."

"So I have to leave," Morgan leaned back in her chair, "or else I'll eventually be caught. I planned to leave anyway. No big deal."

"Well, if you leave, you will be seen. It is a certainty," Nacilme stared at the map of Midlearth. Then, her eyes lit up as an idea entered her mind, and she snatched the map from the wall. "However, if you travel here, you will avoid many of them. Probably all of them… You see, we are here…"

"Yes, I am well aware of where Mirkwood is," Morgan said in a dry, irritated tone.

"No need to be like that," Nacilme huffed. "Now, the Carrock isn't shown on this map, but it is still there. So is Beorn. He might be able to help us. From there we can take a path through the mountains, and hopefully be well stocked from Beorn for that journey. There may be Goblins, since we shall be passing very close to where Goblin-town might be."

"Well, if Beorn is still there, than wouldn't Goblin-town be there?" Morgan asked. "Shouldn't another route be found? The places and geography moves around, so how can we really be sure where anything is?"

"Beorn is there because he is," Nacilme explained, "but Goblin-town may be there if it happens to be. As for another route, why don't you try to climb up to the Eagles' Eyries and see if they want to give us a lift? Or, perhaps you want to trek all the way down to the Gap of Rahenn? While you are at it, why don't you consider Morria, too? Must be lovely this time of year."

"All right, all right," Morgan leaned over onto the table. "You win. But let's just try to get to Beorn first, hmm? That could be… interesting enough."

"I have an idea for that as well, just so you know," Nacilme stood up.

"Really?" Morgan blinked. "Nice. What is this brilliant plan?"

Nacilme smiled. "It's simple." Morgan gulped.

"…There. That should be good enough for a 'Sue disguise," Nacilme stood back to get a full view of Morgan's outfit.

She had on a tunic that, somehow, was several different colors at once and emphasized curves the agent was very, very sure she didn't have, and her breeches were soft, flexible, and made of some unidentified animal that apparently came in designer colors. Her cloak was silver-gray and resembled the cloaks from Lorien, except that Galadriel would never be so sadistic as to add sequins to them, and she would never make a brooch that was such engineered tackiness. She looked down at her boots, which were black and unfortunately shiny. Proper boots should not be shiny enough to be used for signaling.

"I feel like an idiot," Morgan shifted around in the silvery-purple-green-red-blue tunic. "And I'm itchy. What is this thing made of, anyway?"

"It's Polysuester," Nacilme replied. "It happens to be the only fabric that is completely resistant to stains, dirt, mud, lint, wrinkles, distinctly nasty odors, smudges, static electricity, and good taste."

"It itches," Morgan tugged at the fabric. "And it smells like… like…" She sniffed the sleeve, and went into a fit of sneezing. "…It smells like peppermint. I'm allergic to peppermint…"

Nacilme sighed. "All right, the shirt will go. We'll find something better. Happy now?"

Morgan sneezed.

"I'll take that as 'yes'."

Once successfully outfitted with a replacement tunic, Morgan began to snatch items from around the room, and shoved them into a bag. She figured she might need some of them later on.

"Oh, come on," Nacilme sighed. "We have to go soon."

Morgan paused. "Hold on a moment. Don't we have to get Legolas? He said that he would go with me."

"Fine, fine, but please hurry," she responded. "I'll get a few more things while you go. And make sure that no one else sees you!"

"Of course, of course," Morgan said absentmindedly as she walked out the door. "I'll be careful."

In the darkness of the Palace's corridor, Morgan walked past as quietly as she could, which just so happened to be rather quiet.

In the darkness of the Palace's corridor, a figure watched in silence as Morgan went by. The figure's eyes glowed with silver light, and her hair was as bright as burnished gold.

Cerby's Handy Translations of Elven Languages (Even Though There Isn't Really a Lot to Translate):

Nan Nacilme. Nan mellon. - I am Nacilme. I am a friend.

Nen! - I am!

Tari Palanti- Far-seeing Queen

A/n- Yes, yes, I don't own anything that belongs to Tolkien. I do, however, own Nacilme, Morgan, Polysuester (at least, I think I own that one), and probably other things I don't feel like mentioning. It took me forever to get this update, and I have absolutely no excuse for tardiness. Sorry. Feed your starving author, review!