One Mixed Up Mary-Sue

A group had rushed out to meet them as the horse entered the valley. Emily sighed in relief when the sick hobbit was bundled up and swept away from her. The horse was taken next. Elrohir was beside her, helping her to stand.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah- no- I don't know." Emily tripped over her words, unsure how to phrase the overwhelming amount of thoughts running through her mind.

"The hobbit will live," he said solemnly. "His condition is dire, but my father is a well-practiced healer."

"This- this has got to stop!" Emily argued. "He could die! He needs a real hospital! And what the hell were those things? I thought I was going to die. I thought my heart was going to fall out of my chest and I was going to be dead and I'd never see me family again and-"

"I hope for your sake you are truly as distressed as you are letting on. A dark time has fallen upon Middle-earth, but I never thought Imladris would have fallen like this. My father has lost his mind, and now here you are, claiming to be the child of some prophecy! Hah!"

"I never claimed to be anything!" Emily retorted. "You people took me from my apartment and brought me here against my will! I just want to go home. Can't you just let m go home? I promise I'll keep my mouth shut." The question came out much weaker than Emily had intended, and she finally began to realize how tired she was. The excitement of this argument paled in comparison to being chased through the woods by those monsters.

"I- I will see if anything can be done. Come now, go to bed." His words were final. Emily had opened her mouth to argue, but shut it when she saw the look on his face. He looked like he was as confused as she was by all of this. He either wouldn't or couldn't help her, and she truly didn't have the energy to argue with him. She followed him back to the house and he left her with a brisk nod at her door.

Letting out a long sigh, Emily let herself into the room and closed the door. She went through her usual combing-through of the room, then eyed the white nightgown on the bed. She changed quickly, shoving her dirt and sweat-stained clothes into a ball in the corner of the room. She crawled under the covers of the big bed and tried her best to fall asleep.

Even as the morning was coming around, Emily was still fighting to sleep. She'd tossed and turned and dreamed about monsters. This place was starting to make her crazy, it was wearing down her resolve. She wondered if they'd go easier on her if she just played along. Or would things get worse?

Emily decided to get out of the room before the girl form the day before could come back. She pulled on the same gray dress that she'd worn, made sure her knife was tucked into her pocket, and quickly let the room. She didn't feel like interacting with anyone, but was absolutely parched. Maybe she could have some water and then retreat back to the bedroom. She turned a corner, almost entirely absorbed in her own thoughts, and almost ran right into one of the last people she'd wanted to see.

"You!" Emily exclaimed, quickly stepping backwards, away from the kidnapper. "Don't! Just please keep away!"

"Emily, wait," he reached out to her, but Emily flinched away.

"Please don't touch me," Emily begged, moving further back until she was up against a wall. When he took another step, she pulled the knife from her pocket and leveled it at him. However, she quickly found that she'd been liberated of her small weapon, and he looked extremely upset about it.

"Erestor!" It was Elrohir. "We all need to sit down and speak." The kidnapper walked over to him, saying something in that language Emily didn't understand. Before she could think to run away from the situation, they turned their attention back to her.

"Elrohir has arranged for us to discuss recent events," the kidnapper said. "Come."

Silently seething at the rude order, Emily followed the pair to a far corner of the house. They entered a small room where Glorfindel was waiting for them. He sat at a small table, with four places prepared. Emily smiled weakly at him, happy to see he was recovering well. A large window looked out over the valley, and the sunshine illuminated every corner of the room. On one wall a large tapestry hung. The thread used to embroider the two trees seemed to shine in the sunlight. Opposite that was a bookshelf, filled not only with books, but knickknacks and items that Emily had never seen before. Realizing that she was staring, she quickly took a seat at the table with the others.

"I only have one question, and please just be honest," Emily said. "Is this real? At first I thought it was a joke, or a bad dream, but I swear I thought I was going to die when those things were after me."

"This is real," Glorfindel answered solemnly. Emily couldn't say that she was surprised. It was a hard pill to swallow, but it wasn't as shocking as she would have thought. She'd been preparing herself for his answer.

"Glorfindel, did you give her this?" Erestor demanded, breaking the silence and throwing the knife down on the table. If looks could kill, the balrog slayer would have been toast.

"Yes," he answered plainly. "The girl felt threatened, I gave her a little knife. I hope a young woman with a paring knife was not too much of a hassle for you?"

"Had I been expecting her to pull a weapon on me, perhaps not!"

"Everyone around here has gone completely insane, how can you not be planning for the unexpected?" Glorfindel asked critically.

"Tell me, Glorfindel, what were you planning for when you got hit in the back of the head?"

"This is the doom of our race," Elladan said. "Damn stubborn Noldor can never agree on anything."

"You forget your lineage," Glorfindel quipped. "I knew your great-grandmother."

"One long-gone relative is nothing compared to the full-fledged insanity that runs through the pair of you!" Elrohir argued.

"Perhaps long gone, but had I-"

"I know, I know Glorfindel. Had it not been for your noble deed I would never have come into this world. Yes, yes, what favor are you trying to coax out of me this time?" Elrohir gave an exasperated sigh, knowing he would never hear the end of this.

"Just hear me out, Elrohir, and you as well, Erestor. She did not want to be here," Glorfindel said plainly. "We did not intend to have her here. I am ashamed that a guest of this house feels that she is a captive!"

"Guys, I'm right here," Emily mumbled at the arguing group. "And I appreciate the sentiment, Glorfindel, but not the being talked about like an idiot part."

"Emily, you must forgive us," Glorfindel said. "I am sure, had my rude friend known the consequences, he would never had agreed to bring you here."

"I lost my family when I was very young," Erestor said eventually. "I would never have knowingly chosen to do the same to you. I truly do regret it."

"When is the last time you slept?" Glorfindel asked, eyeing the weary advisor.

"Days ago," he replied. "I have been reading and reading, trying to find a way to send the girl home. I have written to all the corners of Middle-earth, asking for any wisdom they may have. I am holding out hope that Círdan will have some knowledge to share."

"Good," Glorfindel said. He turned to Emily. "If anyone were to know how to send you home, it would be him. Here, take this back." He pushed the knife across the table at her.

"Thank you." Emily peeked quickly over at Erestor, who still looked upset. "I thought he was going to kill me when he took it from me."

"Hah! He would have bored you to death, maybe!" Elrohir exclaimed with a laugh. "He could have lectured you until your brain turned to cobwebs."

"Elrohir..."

"Oh no, I remember those days well: Elrohir, do not run in the hallways, Elrohir, do not touch that, Elrohir, do not maim your brother."

Emily couldn't help but let out a little giggle at Elrohir's teasing. The trio gathered around her paused to smile, even the cranky, gray eyed kidnapper.

"Good, this is good," Glorfindel said. "Now, shall we eat something?"

"So are you really that much of a prude?" Emily asked after her second glass of wine. Accepting a drink hadn't been her brightest moment, but she figured if she hadn't been poisoned by now, things would be okay. And as much as she hated to admit it, she was finding it easier and easier tolerate the company of these three.

"Of course not!" Erestor replied. "I am just wise, and Elrohir would do well to-"

"Oh yes he is!" Glorfindel argued. "Do not let him fool you. I seem to remember complaining of a draft one day and being told, in excruciating detail, how each stone had been laid in these walls."

"Erestor is old," Elrohir added with a shrug. "Old habits die hard."

So, yes, I am on the "they're-the-same-Glrofindel" team ;)

I changed this one a lot, holy cow. The storyline is still the same, of course, but I think that it's a bit smarter now.