Mary-Sue in Middle-Earth, a lord of the rings fanfic

Mary-Sue in Middle-Earth

It was half past ten on a school night, and Mary-Sue was sitting up in bed. She had been given a box set of the Lord of the Rings trilogy for Christmas from her grandfather, and that morning had just finished reading all three books for the five hundred and seventy-eighth time. She was now half way through the sixth chapter of The Fellowship of the Ring for the five hundred and seventy-ninth time (Mary-Sue had completed her homework as soon as she had come home from school, because she was good like that) when a voice floated up from downstairs.

"Mary-Sue! Come now, my angel, it's time to go to bed."

"Alright, Mother," Mary-Sue responded obediently, "but won't you just let me have ten more minutes to conclude my reading of book one?"

"Of course, light of my life, but I trust you to go straight to sleep in . . . oh, nine minutes and forty-three seconds."

"Yes, Mother."

Mary-Sue closed her book momentarily, so that she could reach across and get a tissue to delicately blow her perfectly-formed nose. As she did this, she gazed lovingly at the surprisingly new-looking cover of her book (Mary-Sue looked after her things well, because she was good like that) and noticed something strange. The ring on the cover appeared to be spinning. She was obviously more tired than she had thought! And yet . . . it really did seem to be moving. She peered more closely . . . and suddenly felt herself falling, right into the centre of the spinning ring! She tumbled and twisted and turned and plunged, and screamed in a nice, polite, dainty kind of way (Mary-Sue liked to be ladylike at all times, because she was good like that) until she realised that she was no longer plummeting down, but lying face up in a clearing in the middle of a wood. Above her she could see nine faces looking worriedly at her, apparently not at all panicked about the fact that a strange girl was suddenly in front of them, wearing a pair of pink cotton pyjamas with little bunny rabbits on them from George @ Asda, having appeared straight out of thin air.

Mary-Sue looked around her uncertainly, taking in her surroundings and glancing at the people so intent on staring her down. She saw four small people, just over half her size, one of whom was worriedly clutching his necklace; a man slightly taller than them and a lot more chunky with a axe that looked too sharp for comfort; a rather gnarled old man leaning on a rather gnarled old stick, two tall, rugged, strong-looking men who kept their hands on their very large . . . swords; and a decidedly girly-looking and yet strangely attractive – in fact, downright gorgeous – man with long blonde hair, holding a bow, and with eyes that made her want to lose herself in them for ever and ever and ever and . . . she stopped herself. (Mary-Sue didn't have impolite thoughts about men, because she was good like that. She didn't have them about women, either, but that was just because it had never really occurred to her, and she didn't know from films because she didn't watch ones with anything over a PG certificate, because she was good like that. Anyway, back to the situation. Cue shocked recognition on the behalf of Mary-Sue).

"But . . . I know who you are!" Mary-Sue exclaimed, "You're the Fellowship of the ring and you're on your way to Mount Doom to destroy the Ring in its fiery depths!"

"Why yes, we are, young lady," the old man beamed at her, quite oblivious to the fact that a mysterious girl who was quite unknown to him or the others knew exactly who they were and where they were going, and therefore their expedition to save the world could have been in very serious jeopardy; rendering all of Middle-earth nothing more than slaves, delivering himself and the other members directly into the hands of worryingly skilled torturers and, far more seriously, creating the possibility that Legolas would die, leaving millions of heartbroken girls to jam the internet and every town centre in the world in a frantic search for the final full-size posters and cardboard-cutouts of him ever to be made again. Which would have been a disaster.

"In fact," the old man (whom she had now worked out to be Gandalf) continued, "Why don't you join us on our quest? I can tell by having looked at you for thirty seconds that you can shoot a bullseye with a bow and arrow from three kilometres away, on your last holiday you walked eighty-six miles before breakfast, you're a black belt in karate and you practice homeopathic medicine in your spare time. Isn't that right, dear?"

"Um – well – yes" Mary-Sue stammered (quite surprising herself, as Mary-Sue never gave monosyllabic answers, because she was good like that [normally]). Apparently kilometre, karate and homeopathic were words frequently used in the time of the Lord of the Rings, because no member of the group had thought to question them.

"Oh yes, please do," the hobbits chorused as one. "Come with us and naturally fall into the role of mother, because apart from the fact that we are actually meant to be in our thirties, have managed to look after ourselves for the whole journey already, and have revoltingly hairy feet, we are just so adorable and obviously will not survive without your desire to ruffle our hair and think of us as babies."

"Yes, I too would like you to come," Gimli rumbled in agreement, "because due to the fact that I am vertically challenged, I will automatically be expected to be friends with the woman in the group."

"Join us," Aragorn roared, "because having only just met you, I have decided that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Join us. Join us, and afterwards, you can be my wife."

"No!" bellowed Boromir. "Marry me. I'm so much better than Aragorn. I'm just as big and rugged, but I'm a baddie and at the end I turn good, and I know that women can't resist that. Besides – according to the film, I'm Sean Bean, and who can beat that?"

"Actually," a melodic voice almost whispered to her, "in my opinion you should come with us and then marry me. I am an Elf, and if you've read any stories on the internet about me then you'll know that getting it on with an elf is like having fireworks exploding in your . . . brain, and angels singing in your heart. I am beautiful and kind, handsome and understanding, stunning and sensitive. I have all the qualities normally found in gay men, although I am not gay, however many people may maintain that I am. I have the looks and the body of a Calvin Klein model, and the hair of someone in the posters for Herbal Essence. I may appear to be more than a little feminine, but if you look closer you'll realise that by God, I am all man. Not only that, but I've been told that I handle my bow pretty successfully. All this, and more, my love, and I am offering it all to you. I may be over 300 years old, I may have met thousands of Elven girls who are, to put it mildly, pretty darn attractive, but I cast those all aside because, and I truly mean this, I love you. I have no idea why, but I am asking you now. Marry me, and make me the happiest Elf alive."

Mary-Sue looked at him agog. Her legs gave way beneath her and she sank into Legolas's arms.

"Surely I must be dreaming," she murmured in a daze.

"Well," said Legolas. "You are." And he dropped her on the ground.

When Mary-Sue woke up, she was lying in her bed, the book still clutched in her hand. The ring was motionless.

"Bugger," she said in an annoyed tone of voice. Well, at least bugger was what she wanted to say, but instead she said,

"Oh golly, how annoying." After all, Mary-Sue didn't swear, because she was good like that. And because it was 10:39, she turned over and went to sleep, and dreamed of algebraic fractions.

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Watch out for more adventures of Mary-Sue. Coming soon – Mary-Sue at Hogwarts. Yes, Mary-Sue will meet the crew of HP and co, so stay tuned for more laughs-a-go-go.

Mary-Sue is mine. Well, kind of. I mean, she's obviously based on . . . well, Mary-Sues. I don't think someone's done something like this before and actually called their character Mary-Sue – if they have, I'm reeeally sorry, I had no idea. But if it actually was first done by me, then don't copy her, please! All other character belong to J. R. R. Tolkien although Legolas is mine, damnit, MINE! Ahem. Ok, how about the character belongs to Tolkien . . . but the body belongs to me? Hah! Nice one!