One Mixed Up Mary-Sue

"I want to propose a deal," Emily declared, looking between the three elves gathered. She took a deep breath and collected her thoughts before continuing. "You," she looked at Erestor, "brought me here. I think it's only fair that you have to keep that weirdo stalker away from me. He's getting too close and dangerously pushy." She tried to relax back in the chair while still sitting tall amongst the small group of elves, who always seemed to look so polished and proper.

"What would you expect me to do?" Erestor asked with a roll of his eyes. "Legolas may be a bit... uh... eccentric as of late, but surely he is not a danger?"

"I think it sounds like a fair proposal," Elrohir said, getting to his feet. "Now, if that is all-"

"Oh, and you! Please try to talk down your father," Emily begged. "I don't even know him and he's trying to marry me off to that lunatic... You'd think he was selling me for a whole herd of livestock or whatever old-time-y shit that goes on here."

"It would be nice to have some more hens..." Erestor observed with a grin.

"You're not funny!" Emily huffed.

"Perhaps I can see what he has arranged, and at the very least negotiate a better deal," Elrohir said, sharing in the joke before disappearing from the small sitting room. Emily stared after him, trying to discern wether or not she'd fallen into an elvish human trafficking ring.

"I suppose I could take it upon myself to distract the lovesick prince," Glorfindel said. "Perhaps request a long-winded tale of the most recent trials he has suffered at the hands of his father, who Legolas insists had been nothing but cruel to him as of late. Oh, Erestor, did Thranduil ever write back regarding the accusations Legolas has been making against him?"

"He did write, but I could not understand his letter. I... I think it was written in blood. Suffice to say things are not going well in his realm, either... What is that noise?"

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," Emily muttered to herself as she approached the window. She recognized that tune.

Love, I get so lost, sometimes
Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
When I want to run away
I drive off in my car...

"Is this a joke?" Emily hollered out to the trenchcoat-clad, boombox-carrying, blonde elf standing below.

"It is no joke; it is love!" Legolas announced. He cleared his throat before throwing his voice with Peter Gabriel's and singing along.

"Where did you even get that stuff?" Emily asked.

"Dur, I'm a prince, I tend to get what I want... And you could too if you married me..." Legolas explained with a shrug. With a soft 'click' the song stopped playing. Legolas put the boombox down on the ground, rewinded the tape, and started it over again. Soon enough they were being serenaded once again.

Emily jumped when she heard Erestor muttering something beside her. Glorfindel laughed. She was a little disappointed that she didn't understand their language; she was sure she would have enjoyed being in on a joke at Legolas' expense.

"I fear I may laugh myself into a hysteria," Glorfindel said, pressing a half-empty wine bottle into Emily's hands. "I will take my leave. Please make him work much harder than this, I am curious to see what he will come up with next." With another chuckle, he left the room.

"In yoooour eyes!" Legolas sang from below.

"Can we just leave him out there?" Emily asked, taking a swig of the strong drink. "Oh wow, okay, definitely too early in the day for this, nope, nope..." She handed the bottle off to Erestor, who frowned and put it down.

"People will start to complain soon," Erestor said. "Perhaps someone will become frustrated enough to throw something at him..."

"The radio will run out of batteries eventually, right?"

"Excuse me, the what will what?"

"Um, never mind," Emily said with a sigh. She cleared her throat before yelling down to her would-be-suitor. "Legolas, go home!

"Emily, did you like it? Because I have more- hold on!" Once again he put the boombox down on the ground and started fiddling with the buttons again. Emily nearly had to pick her jaw up off the floor when "I'll Make Love To You" started playing. Of course, Erestor was ready to pass out from holding in his laughter.

"Oh! Glorfindel will be so upset that he missed this!"

"Emily... is someone up there with you?" Legolas asked, pausing the music.

"Yes! So don't get any creepy ideas about coming over here and trying anything!" Emily shouted. "I've got reinforcements!"

"Why- why would you want to spend time with anyone but me?"

"You're horrible, Legolas," she answered. Emily shot glance over at Erestor, then back to Legolas. They were crying, the pair of them. Erestor was laughing so hard he was holding his sides and crying, while Legolas was sniffling and staring at his feet, dejected. "Don't laugh! You did this to me!" Emily snapped at him.

"He did what to you?" Legolas demanded, glaring up at the pair.

"Nothing, Legolas- What are you doing?" Erestor composed himself and stared down out the window as the Prince removed his trenchcoat and began scaling the walls of the Last Homely House. He nearly fell once, but luckily he hadn't climbed very far. None wanted to feel the wrath of this new, angrier Thranduil, should his son have fallen to his death (or even minor disfigurement) while climbing to the rescue of human girl who hadn't actually been in danger.

"Do we just wait for him to climb up?" Emily asked. "Can I push him down?"

"No, you may not push him," Erestor replied. "Just... wait for him to get here and we will discuss this mess."

With a shout, Legolas had vaulted over the window. He landed with a grunt and brandished a long knife. Emily yelped and ran to the far corner of the room, pressing herself against the wall. Erestor was yelling at Legolas in their language, but the latter didn't seem to be pacified. He waved the weapon haphazardly, yelling at Erestor.

"Legolas, put down the pointy object!" Emily pleaded from her corner. "What are you doing?"

When the blonde glanced over at her, Erestor grabbed the bottle that Glorfindel had left behind and clocked him on the back of the head. Emily let out a loud curse as Legolas crumpled to the floor.

"Oh, so I can't push him out a window, but you can hit him in the head?" Emily asked, staring wide-eyed.

"He was out of his mind, threatening me with a weapon!" Erestor countered. He shuffled over to the limp form on the ground. "Get his arms."

"Wha- what are we going to do with him?" Emily asked. "Might as well leave him here to sleep it off, right? We can tell him this was all a dream!"

"He is almost stupid enough to believe that, but we cannot leave him here," Erestor muttered with a roll of his eyes.

"Some damn bodyguard you make," Emily complained as they were hauling the unconscious prince of Mirkwood down an empty corridor. He was heavier than he looked, and Emily was only able to take short, shuffling footsteps.

"I never agreed to your proposition," Erestor protested. "I am not a bodyguard... Bring him this way." They turned down another passage but were abruptly halted by Elrond's questioning gaze.

"What is going on here?"

"Uh..." Emily stared up at the displeased Lord of Rivendell. "He's... sick?"

"Come along then, I can't very well marry you off to a dying husband," Elrond declared, elbowing in and taking over for her.

"So what happened to him?" Elrond asked as they continued along. Emily walked beside him, unsure of what else she would do with herself if she wasn't with them.

"Oh, well, he just fell and his his head," Emily explained nervously. "I don't know what came over him. Well, he actually smelled a bit like booze, then he was climbing a wall, and then he just- wham." She clapped her hands for emphasis.

"He will need rest, but he will be fine," Elrond said, grimacing down at Legolas, and trying to get a better grip under his arms. "You should go clean up, and be waiting by his side when he awakens. There is nothing more lovely than being revived from a near-death experience with the one you love by your side. Have you two discovered your love for one another yet? You really should get on that, no one likes a grumpy bride on her wedding day!"

"Wait, what?" Emily nearly choked on her words as she kept up beside Elrond. "There's not going to be a wedding." She glared over at Erestor, who did a very poor job of hiding his laughter with a spastic coughing fit.

"Ah, of course not," Elrond agreed with a wink. "But I am old and wise, I can see your true love blooming, even when the two of you are reluctant. Don't you think they're perfect for one another?" He looked up at Erestor, who had recovered from his sudden illness.

"Oh, of course, but perhaps-"

"See? Everyone sees it but you! Oh how romantic!" Elrond interrupted him, smiling over at Emily.

"I think I'm going to be sick..."

Poor Thranduil always gets painted as such a tyrant. I figured that evil! Thranduil would enjoy sending a letter written in blood. Very creeptacular-meets-high-art of him, no? And we all know he's got the cheekbones for dat artist life.