a/n: Sorry about not updating. This chapter involves plotting, fourth wall breaking, crying, Derrick Flynn-Beckinsale, perverted Nazgûl, and more rescuing. Also, more drinking. I decided to play a bit on a Sue's misconception about Lúthien. And uh, I think I accidentally referenced to Percy Jackson and the Olympians in this chapter. Huh. Oh well. I don't mean to offend any Yankees fans or whatever, but I couldn't think of any other hat. :P
Disclaimer: If I owned it, would I be writing fan fiction? No.
Anyway, on with the story!
Arwen Undómiel tried not to hate people. It was kind of hard, she thought, when said "people" were almost biting your head off. It was not in her nature to be cruel and vicious to people, but this Sue, the one called the Morningstar, was so annoying.
"And so then he said," said the Sue. "That I was the likeness of Lúthien come on earth again!" Arwen pursed her lips.
"Funny," Arwen commented. "Someone once said something like that to me."
"Yeah but your hair is dark and everyone knows Lúthien was a blond," the Sue said. Why, Arwen thought, does this thing, have to bother me whilst I eat? Arwen forced a thin lipped smile and took a sip of water.
The plan, at least, what she had heard, was to rescue people from the areas most affected and then terminate the Sues. It would be a good plan if Mordor wasn't so overrun with them.
Elrond Peredhel frowned. Sauron's plan was a bit flaky. What if the Elvish archers in Mirkwood shot at the Ringwraiths? What if the people of Gondor fled at the sight of them? The Eagles were only relaying a message because they themselves found a shapeshifting!Sue in their midst.
Elrond sighed, and the Witch-king looked at him curiously. Or, about as curious looking you can get without a face. Whatever, in the Witch-king's mind, he was curious, and this is a dropped hint about self confidence and society!
"So," Sauron said. Under any normal circumstances he would have not used that word, but his "daughters" used it a lot. "What do you propose we do, Elrond Peredhel? If my Nazgûl are going to be harmed in any potential way that allows them to-"
"Wait!" One of the Nazgûl interrupted. "Do you hear that?"
"Yes," Elrohir said. "I do hear it."
"As do I," Elladan added.
"I believe," Elrond said rather testily. "That someone is knocking at the door."
"Muh lord?" a gruff voice came through the door. "Somewaan iz here to see ya!"
"Oh, for my sake you incompetent fool, Uruk-hai Number Seventy Three, do not talk like that!" Sauron snapped. "Are you a Sue or not?"
"Mah name iz Derrick," Uruk-hai Number 73 said.
"Do not be such a fool!" The Witch-king said. "No one in all of Arda or Valinor or anywhere in relation to Middle-earth is named Derrick."
Elrohir stifled a laugh. Elladan glared at him. The grim-twins, the Nazgûl sometimes referred to them in private.
"Yuh dun't understnd, mahlord. Mah name iz Derrick Flynn-Beckinsale."
"Elrohir, Elladan." Sauron said. "Would you be oh so kind and slay Derrick Flynn-Beckinsale?"
"Gladly," Elladan said. Elrohir smirked. The two unsheathed their swords and swung open the door. Derrick Flynn-Beckinsale blinked. He wore a Yankees cap on his head. Sauron blinked.
"What in actual Mount Doom?"
"It is a Sue specimen, this cap," Elrond noted dryly. "Many of them from "real Earth" or "the future" support teams that play slightly barbaric games. This is an artifact of a sporty!Sue. I do not understand where Seventy Three got it."
"Nor do I," Sauron added. "But slay him now, so I can plan!" Elrohir and Elladan quickly did so. The Yankees cap fell on the ground. Elladan and Elrohir slipped back inside and shut the door. Sauron looked a bit green.
"I can never get used to that," he muttered. "Remind me to put new slaves, I mean, servants on my to-do list." Khamûl snickered. The Sues had taught them all about perverted jokes.
"Witch-king!" Sauron shouted. "Put new slaves on my list of things to renovate! Also, the game-room is slightly too small. What are you snickering at, Khamûl? Hurry on!" Instantly, the Nazgûl took out pads of parchment and quills and scribbled 'new slaves i meen servants game room 2 small renovate' on the pads.
Sauron leaned back in his chair. "Being a dark lord is so hard," he informed Elrond. Elrond smiled weakly.
"I suppose it is."
"I mean, you do-gooders have it easy. Kill the bad guys!" Sauron went on. "I have to come up with ingenious plots and devices. Annatar, rings, blah blah blah. Screw this!" Sauron stood up. "I'm going to take a nap." he announced. The With-king also stood.
"My lord," he said cautiously. "You are doing it again."
"Doing what?" Sauron snapped angrily.
"Being Out-of-Character, or Ohohsee." Sauron paled.
"We must get rid of those Sues," he said with renewed vigor. Elrond nodded.
"But even the wisest cannot tell how long that will take."
"Elrond Peredhel," Sauron complained. "You totally stole her line."
"Who?" Elrond asked, blinking.
"Galadriel. Man, I hate her. Say, author-woman!" Sauron turned to face the screen. "How dare you bring this up!"
"Stop," the fanfic writer commanded. "You are breaking the fourth wall. That does not fit with the flow of this story. If you continue, I shall bring Derrick Flynn-Beckinsale back to life. I am not liking this new meta fictional fourth wall breaking spin the story is taking."
"Please stop," Elladan said. The fanfic writer smiled.
"I am going to hit backspace now," said the fanfic writer. As she did, the last few scenes were eaten up by her computer.
Elrond blinked, rubbing his eyes.
"What was that?" he asked.
"I don't know," Sauron said. "I feel like something has just been erased from my memory. Say, what is that?" A Yankees cap sat on the center of the table. Elrohir frowned.
"My sword is covered in blood!" Elladan exclaimed. The Nazgûl stifled more laughs. It's pervy!Nazgûl.
"Stop," Elrond said. "That is not funny."
"Okay," the Witch-king said, not really meaning it.
"Father," Elrohir said. "Does the name Derrick Flynn-Beckinsale ring any bells?"
"No," Elrond lied. "It does not. A rather ridiculous name, if you ask me. Anyway, let's just go with the old plan. You have plenty of fell beasts."
"Yes," Sauron agreed. "We do." The Nazgûl took that as their cue to leave. The Witch-king took a fell beast named Bûthkurl. She was a nice fell beast. Her scales were shiny.
The Witch-king stroked Bûthkurl's head. She purred. Or screeched. He couldn't tell the difference.
"Nazgûl ready?" he asked the others. One of them glared.
"No! This riding business makes me all stiff."
"WAIT!" a voice screeched. Khamûl, from his place next to the Witch-king, sighed.
"Not her."
"Y'all almost forgot me!" the Tenth Nazgûl said.
"How many times do we have to remind you that you are not the Tenth Nazgûl. You are insolent little girl playing dress up. Get that in your head!" the Witch-king said in a tone so icy it would instill fear in the hearts Elf-lords. Not really, but it would scare a Sue silly. The Witch-king nudged Bûthkurl and she knocked the Tenth Nazgûl over.
"Quick!" the Witch-king shouted. "Make haste, y'all!"
And they did. Over the next few hours, they picked up drunk men, hobbits, Dwarves, and Elves.
"Now I know why the Eagles hate this. I feel like Middle-earth's taxi service." Khamûl grumbled.
"What is a tacksee service?" the Witch-king inquired. He could feel the presence of the One Ring, though Sues rendered it powerless.
"I dunno," Khamûl replied. "I heard someone talking about it once. I think they have it in "real Earth" or "the future". Something like that."
"Oh," the Witch-king said. Behind him, Frodo Baggins sighed.
"This is not very pleasant," the hobbit said, taking a swig of Legolas's beer. Boromir groaned.
"I refuse to believe Elrond Peredhel has asked you all to do this, yet here we are. Thank you for rescuing me from the clutches of the Sues, however. They are much worse than Nazgûl."
The Witch-king's head spun. Apparently, a bunch of insolent (he liked that word, m'kay?) teenagers were more imposing than him.
"I assure you they are not, Boromir of Gondor," the Witch-king said stiffly.
"I never knew Nazgûl could talk normally, not as if they were speaking through a filter," Boromir said thoughtfully.
"Please," one of the Nazgûl said. "Drink this beer so you stop making statements that are not funny."
Like the Nazgûl say, I should stop making statements that are not funny. Oh well. This chapter had less action than I hoped for. What did you guys think of the fourth wall breaking? I might bring Derrick Flynn-Beckinsale back to life. Anyway, please review! The last chapter didn't get any. :)