I Blame Iendil Ancawen Entirely
Summary: A Mary Sue is dropped into Middle-Earth with every intent to wreck havoc. Join one normal, canon-abiding girl in her quest to stop the Sue.
Chapter One: Not teh Perfect
Iendil Ancawen was perfect.
Plain and simple, this fact could not be refuted by any.
She had golden blonde hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall and shined brighter than the sun. Bystanders had been known to be struck blind by her radiance and walk into trees.
Her eyes were at times the deep blue of the ocean, or the bright green of the forest. Sometimes they were honey-colored, and sometimes they made up every color of the rainbow, shining with the lights of a thousand jewels. Males of every species were captivated by these beautiful orbs, unless they were first made nauseous by the rate at which the colors changed.
Her figure was gracefully strong, but slender, a graceful display of feminine grace. Not a single defect was present on her skin, which glowed with a mystical, ethereal light. The fact that Iendil could not spell 'ethereal' if her life depended on it should be ignored.
As should the fact that Iendil Ancawen's name, roughly translated with a basic Elvish dictionary, actually means Lover of Maidens (we will not even bring up the fact that her last name means Maiden of the Jaws). But we won't go into that, and what Iendil Ancawen doesn't know won't hurt her…
Her fighting skills were surpassed by no one on Earth, and she fought with a delicate yet powerful—you guessed it—grace. She was also a scholar of languages, and was a self-professed master of Elvish. Since Lord of the Rings is her favorite movie, and all.
So, of course, Iendil Ancawen was destined to wake up in some random forest two miles from Rivendell, in Middle-Earth, and be rescued by a random, attractive member of the male species and go on to ruin canon as we know it.
Middle-Earth would be an escape for our tortured heroine from the abuse she was subjected to daily by her stepmother's cousin's sister's fiancé's brother's son's math teacher's husband's pool boy. She was so tragic.
And she was also currently very confused. More so than usual, I mean.
Because thus far, her plan had been going very well. Very well, indeed. Her dream of Legolas sweeping her off her feet onto his white horse and riding off into the sunset ended with her opening her eyes to see trees all around her.
"I, like, must be in middle-earth! Yay me!"
But after staring at several trees—we all know how interesting they are—her violet-pink eyes came to rest on another person in the random-clearing she woke up in.
This girl was so not teh perfect. Her hair was dull brown with no style. Her eyes were just plain old blue. She wore baggy jeans and a t-shirt, and gasp no make-up!
"Like, OMG!!!eleven!"
The new girl looked up at Iendil and her eyes widened. "Shit."
Iendil fluffed her golden hair. "Like, I know I'm just teh gorgeous, but do u really need to use such language?"
The girl ignored her comment. "Where are we?" she questioned. Then she mumbled "Mary Sue," under her breath. Of course, Iendil's Elf-like hearing caught that, and she giggled like a squirrel on helium.
"Silly, my name is Iendil Ancawen, not Mary Sue!!!"
The girl sat in silence, taking in that bit of information. Then realization hit her, and a smile crept across her face. Iendil didn't know what was so funny about her introduction, but remember, she really isn't as good at Elvish as she proclaims she is.
"Nai Valaraukar tye-mátar," the new girl put out tentatively. When all she got was a blank smile and a nod from Iendil, she sighed. "So you don't speak Elvish."
Iendil blinked. "No, I do! May governarorn. Handon lays. Ellen sees la lumannen of mentos telly vogue."
The girl sat and stared, her jaw hanging open.
"I know, impressive, right?" Iendil giggled. "But you never told me your name, BFF!"
The girl's face took on a deer-in-headlights look. "Since when am I your 'BFF'?" she let derision drip from the pronunciation of the chatspeak, knowing that Iendil was too oblivious to notice.
"Since we have traveled together to Middle-earth to go on a fun adventure with the totally hawt Fellowship!"
"We're in Arda?!"
"Where?"
She resisted the urge to beat her head against a tree trunk.
"Just…never mind. We'd better find Rivendell before we get eaten by Orcs."
"That would never happen! Leggy would come to save me! Or Aragorn, or Pippin, or Elrond, or Haldir, or Eomer, or Faramir, or—"
"Kill me now."
"Hey, you never did tell me your name."
"It's Jo."
"What, like, the guy's name?"
"No, dummy, Jo as in Joanna."
"That's so plain! I think I'll make up a new name for you!" Iendil begin to think hard. Jo thought she could vaguely smelled smoke, and covered up her laughter with a cough.
After about ten minutes of blessed silence, Iendil's face lit up. "I know! How about I call you Lissiomalintenen?!!"
Jo growled under her breath. "Go right ahead, if you have a death wish."
Iendil was surprisingly quiet the rest of the short hike to Rivendell.
Translation:
May Balrogs eat you.
And Iendil was trying to say, Mae govannen. Hannon le. Elen síla lumenn' omentielvo.
I hope people enjoyed this. I have a bit more written, and if I get enough positive feedback to tell me that people want to read more, I'll keep posting.
Thanks for reading!
CRC