Chapter 9
Ari's POV

You know, new names aren't much fun most of the time, it's like Tarzan, telling him he's a human after he was raised as a monkey, it's just confusing. Okay, I know, what a TERRIBLE analogy, or whatever the hell it's called, but gimme a break! I've been comatose for God only knows how long, what do you expect, analogistic gold? Is that even a word? That's it, I'm just confused now, and I don't need another headache.

But sometimes, new names can be fun! Especially when they're given to you by the elf of your affections. Which was the case for me, and I even got a spandy-dandy little speech to go with it! I could hear those words a million times a day and never get tired of them, as long as they're said by Prince Legolas of Mirkwood!

"Almarea, meaning blessed," he had said said sweetly to me. "For it is a blessing indeed that you are still alive…something that all of Middle Earth should be grateful for." Can you say AWWW? I didn't, because I was melting because of the way he was looking at me, all admiring and stuff, like I was pretty, which I know I didn't look that great at the time, my hair was tangled and there were twigs and shit in it, and I was still in my slut outfit! Oh fuck, nice way to meet the Fellowship of the Ring, Ari, looking like a bar-room whore! Though somehow I don't think Leggy minded too much. Hee hee hee! Mind out of the gutter, Ari! OUT!

Anyway, my sister and I got new names. Elvish ones, because of our new race. Yippee fucking skippee. I was perfectly happy being a human, damnit! Bitterness over with, I actually like my new name. Almarea. Not as good as Ari, but beats the hell outta my real given name, Ariadne! What the hell is up with my parents, giving all my siblings nice normal names: Maya, Megan, Danny, and Brenton, then stick me with some weirdball Greek name! Personally, I think Mom and Dad were smoking pot when it was time to name me, or maybe, since Blondie, I mean Morwen, and I were born so close together, they were so worn out from taking care of her that they couldn't think of a nice normal name for me! How rude. Fucking rude, I say. But whatever, that's irrelevant, since I'm no longer stuck with that name, I have a funky new elf name, given to me by none other than the hottest male within a billion miles of wherever the hell we are! And my sister's new name is fuckin' awesome too. Morwen…It fits her so perfectly. So 'le hannon' to Aragorn for that one!

I don't think the Fellowship totally hated me. At least, I hope not, cause that would be bad. And Boromir was SO checking Blondie—I mean Morwen—out! Heehee, shame he's gonna die sometime soon, because if you ask me, Boromir's pretty damn hot! Nothing on my Leggy, but still, pretty damn fine. Even though that's coming from me, walking talking hormone, it's still true, Boromir is pretty damned hot! And he wants a piece of my sister! Shame that she doesn't feel the same about him, that'll be a rude reality check. Poor guy. Honestly, Morwen could at least let him have a rendezvous, since he's gonna die! It could be his last wish! Wait, BAD MENTAL IMAGES! BADBADBAD! Mind OUT OF THE GUTTER, DAMNIT!

Damn, I really need to stay away from the gutter, it's a dangerous place for my mind to go. Especially when I'm around Leggy. When my mind is down in the gutter, it's hard to make me come back to reality, plus I can be kinda….dangerous when my mind gets down there. Hee hee hee. But you don't need details!

And man, I seem to be rambling more than usual. Now then, back on subject. So, after the Fellowship decided to let us stay with them, even though Boromir, good-looking as he is, was being a total ass about it, my newly named Elvish sister came and sat next to me. "Well…That was…fun.." she said, looking up at the trees. Thank you very fucking much, Captain Obvious. For a minute, I could only smile dreamily, remembering the way Leggy had looked at me, and then remembering the meaning of my name. Blessed…Hell yeah I was blessed, I had a fucking awesome name and a hot elf! I was living large! Okay, except for the fact that I'd recently been comatose, nearly died, just been dissed for being a woman (elleth, whatever, for being FEMALE!) by a guy who was gonna die soon. Hey, at least I'll survive this whole fucking war! I think. I'd damned well better survive, I have no intention of pulling a Boromir, thank you very fucking much! Plus, if I died, I couldn't stare at Legolas and flirt shamelessly with that amazing hunk of elf at every possible moment!

I finally got my ass out of dreamland a full minute later and replied to my sister, "Of course it was fun.…." Morwen rolled her eyes at me and answered "Since you're all dreamy about your elf in shining fairy shoes, I have a question: When you and Prince Leg-ass get married, does that mean I gotta be nice to him?"

For that, I had to smack her. "MORWEN! You are a complete and total bitch, did you know that?" I said, sticking my tongue out at her, like I did when we were little. Smirking, she shrugged and said "Woof." I simply rolled my eyes and replied in as civil of a tone as I could muster: "Yes, you have to be nice to him. Even though I don't have a snowball's chance in hell with him because I am an infant by this culture's standards! Not fucking fair." Then it was her turn to roll her eyes. "Though infants don't have the vocabulary or appearance of a barroom whore and you have both," she fired back. Oooooh, I gotta admit, that was a burn. "Somehow, I don't think Leggy minds." Oh yeah, go me, good comeback!

And she didn't get a chance to reply, because the members of the Fellowship were done cooking and it was time to eat. And I got the last word, so I win! Nyah. I love to win, I admit it. I'm a competitive person by nature, and I can be a sore loser at times. Which is why it's best to let me win verbal arguments if you know what's good for ya.

We all sat around the fire and ate some kind of…stuff. I have no clue what it was, nor do I think I want to know, as it quite possibly could be meat, which I have forever sworn off for the past ten years, but it was pretty good, actually, even though I would've given anything in the world for a veggie burger, some fries and a Dr. Pepper. I had strategically seated myself between Morwen and Leggy, and I noticed with some amusement that on my sister's other side sat Boromir, who spent the whole meal staring at her. Though I shouldn't be talking, because Legolas and I spent the whole meal staring at each other. Or rather, me staring at him and basking in the glow of being around such a hot elf.

There wasn't much conversation while everyone ate, but that was okay by me, I didn't want to listen to any more discussions on why Morwen and I should or should not continue with the Fellowship to Lothlorien for the simple fact that we could get killed. I mean honestly, who the hell, besides Leggy and Gandalf and Aragorn gave two shits if two brand-new elleths got shot by an arrow or stabbed by a sword or however the hell people die around here?

After everyone finished, Gandalf was the first to speak. "I believe that everyone should get some rest, we must continue on toward Lothlorien in the morning." There were no complaints, everybody simply nodded and retired to their bedrolls, including myself. I was truly exhausted, and I had every right to be, as it was the first time I was able to get up and walk for myself since getting knocked into this alternate reality. So, I climbed obediently in my bedroll and shut my eyes. Before my head even touched the pillow, I was out like a light.

Morning came much too soon for my liking. I was woken up by my sister shaking me by the shoulders and telling me much too cheerily to get up. Let's get one thing straight: I am NOT a morning person, never have been, and never will be. And this was NOT morning, it was still bloody dark! "What the hell?" I muttered groggily. "WAKE UP!" Morwen said, I could tell she was getting irritated, but did I give a damn? No. I wanted to sleep, goddamnit! "Piss off, Maya…" I muttered, forgetting her new name. "Morwen to you, now get up and change out of your slut outfit!" I sat up at this. "What the fuck? And wear WHAT? I am NOT going around a camp full of guys with no clothes on! You're a fucking wanker!" At my defensive attitude, she rolls her eyes and holds up a bundle of clothes, which at closer inspection turned out to be a pair of leggings and a tunic. "Courtesy of Prince Dumbass," my sister said, as I rolled my eyes. "Can I at least keep my shit stomping FMBs?" I asked, beaming at my beloved boots, which laid next to me on the ground. "Sure, just go! There's a brook over there," Morwen said. Damn, impatient, ain't she?

So I went on my merry way to the brook, and looked around to make sure no one else was present, I'm incredibly paranoid, as anyone back home can tell you. Satisfied that the coast was clear, I slid out of my "slut outfit" and into the cool water, washing away days of grime and sickness and dirt. It felt good to wash, though a hot bubble bath with a Smirnoff by my side, some pretty smelling candles, and some good music woulda been appreciated. But alas, no dice.

When I was clean to my satisfaction, I climbed out of the brook and pulled on the clean elf clothes along with my beloved shit-stomping FMBs, and combed my long hair with the comb I'd kept in the pocket of my mini skirt, then checked my reflection in the stream. I noticed that the black streaks in my hair were gone, most likely washed away by the brook, leaving my hair its natural golden blonde shade. My terrible perm had grown out, so now my hair hung straight and long against my face. Of course, I couldn't leave it like that, so I tied it back in a ponytail, checking out my work in the rippling water. And it didn't look bad. In fact, I noted with pride, I looked pretty damned good. Leggy had better appreciate how good I look, especially after nearly dying, I thought with amusement before rushing to meet everyone else.

All heads turned toward me when I entered the encampment, including Leggy, who was staring at me. Not that I minded, unless he was thinking that I looked like a bloody wanker in the elf clothes paired with my FMBs. "WHAT?" I said defensively, looking down at my boots. "These are my shit stomping boots! My FMBs! The best shoes in the world!" By now, Morwen was snickering openly, but the rest of the Fellowship stared blankly at me. Oh shit.

"What are FMBs?" Legolas finally spoke, breaking the awkward silence that had ensued while everyone was staring at me. I couldn't look at my sister, I knew she was laughing her ass off at the question because the person who asked was so ironically the elf of my affections! I find nothing funny about it, personally. "Tell him, Almarea!" Morwen managed to gasp out. Muttering profanities under my breath, I flipped her off. "Not helping." Then I turned back to the elf of my affections, who looked very confused and very, very hot. Hot damn, he is good looking. "Uh…FMB stands for…well, uh…It stands for…." I was stalling and everyone knew it. "Oh fine, but when I scar you for life, don't blame me!" I said defensively, then gave in. "FMB stands for 'fuck-me-boots.' Long story behind the nickname, you don't wanna know, trust me!"

Silence, save for my sister's nearly hysterical laughter. If she doesn't shut up, I'll kill her! Damn, just wait til SHE gets asked an awkward question by the being of HER affections. I'm going to embarrass the hell outta her and see how SHE likes it.

Finally, Leggy spoke, looking torn between laughter and shock at the fact that his notion that I may have had some little bit of innocence had just been shot to hell. "The land from whence you came was strange indeed, for elleths here do not normally speak in such a way." At this, I had to grin. "Yes, but you know I am unlike any other elleth here," I replied, unable to resist a bit of flirting, lowering my eyelids slightly, then tossing a wink his way as Aragorn comes back from… somewhere over the rainbow, I hadn't even noticed his absence, being too busy staring at Legolas and flirting shamelessly at every chance I got, not to mention being embarrassed to death by the elf of my affections.

Anyway, Aragorn came back from wherever he'd gone off to, and spoke up so the whole encampment could hear him: "It is time to journey forth again, brothers. And sisters," he adds, laying eyes upon Morwen and myself. I thought that was pretty considerate of him to include us in his spandy-dandy little speech there, especially considering we were just two hungover, confused chicks that he'd nearly run over with his horse, and even now, we were still just a couple of confused few-day old elleths who were tagging along on a long, important journey just so he could make sure we didn't like go bomb the country or whatever. Not that we could even if we wanted to, but I'm not sure King-O, as Morwen so fondly calls him, knows that.

Then all happiness at being included immediately dissolved when I found out we were to be riding all day and most of the night. Yippee fucking skippee.

Well, one thing's for sure.

I'm gonna be in a fucking lot of pain tomorrow! I want some painkillers and I want them now, dammit!

It's gonna be a loooooong journey. Yippee fucking skippee skadoo.

A/N: What's this? Ally writing her own Author's Note? GASP! Heh, anyway, this chapter is kind of pointless, I admit, but hopefully you had some laughs reading it, because I had a lot of fun writing it. But then again it's 4:50 A.M. and I've been writing all night, so I don't think my brain is exactly functioning very well. Anyway, just wanted to say thanks to all our readers, Ariel and I really appreciate you all taking the time to read our lovely little story here! Keep reviewing and reading, hopefully Ariel will have chapter ten ready soon! Expect some new stories from the dynamic duo as soon as we get off our lazy asses and go start one. Until next chapter, namarie ((farewell)), remember to review!

Happy reading!

-Ally