A non-ff.net OFUM chapter
Aug. 30th, 2004 05:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
misscamIf you're on the OFUM list, you already know I'm writing a special LotR-characters-meet-LotR-actors chapter that isn't going on ff.net (against their rules as it features real people in prominent roles). But if you've missed a part,I'm now posting all the three parts done so far here. Part three is hot off the press.
Meanwhile, I need more icon space. Wah.
Cunning Plans Gone Awry
a.k.a. The OFUM Chapter That Never Was (But Did Happen)
*****
It was a bright, bright Tuesday, the kind of Tuesday you’d find pleasant and enjoyable, but not particularly memorable.
At least it was such a Tuesday until noon, when a swirly sort of thing suddenly appeared in a living room in Canada and a hippie stepped out. At least that’s what Elizabeth first assumed as she stared at the tall, tall blond being that suddenly stood between her and the television program she had been watching. Her brain was slightly hysterically wondering if she could stab him with the pen her hand was clutching, but the ‘hippie’ seemed not to notice.
He smiled, flicked open a small book, skimmed a page with great care and then gave her another great smile.
“Am I in the land of America whose States are United and is the dwelling of Orlando Bloom, who I have no intention of all harming?”
Elizabeth blinked. And slowly her brain started to notice slight details – the pointy ears, the regal look, the general hotness, the rather strange attire, the familiar air about him – and jumped to a startling conclusion.
“...Er, hithereyourmajestyIswearIdon'tlustafteryoursonwannaring?” she squealed.
King Thranduil gave her a blank look for a moment, then glanced down at his book again while muttering something in a strange tongue.
“Jeg spurte om jeg var i Forente Amerika Stater, hvor bor den Orlando Bloom som jeg ikke skade skal,” he declared, flashing another smile.
”What?” Elizabeth replied and wondered if her lunch had been a bit unusual today. Full of LSD, for instance. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again the hallucination did seem to be gone.
Her front door opened and closed with just the faintest hiss of air.
After tossing her lunch and swearing to never have salami ever again, she sat down to calmly ogle Billy Boyd a bit to calm her nerves. Though, she could not help but wonder at the oddidity of having another hallucination a bit like the first one (who had come one night and claimed to be Evil!Thranduil and that she had to enrol at some University or another). Most odd.
A slight tap on her shoulder made her scream and nearly fall off the sofa.
“Good afternoon. Did a tall blond Elf perchance pass through your living room just now?” the woman asked in a pleasant voice, as if that was the most normal question in the world to ask.
“Um… Yes?”
“Ah, good. Did he happen to say where he was going?”
“He mentioned Orlando Bloom?” Elizabeth offered weakly.
“Ah. Thank you.” The woman flashed a smile. “Well, I shall see you next year at OFUM. Tata.”
It took Elizabeth a few hours to calm down, but when she told her friends the story the following day, King Thranduil had ravished her on the sofa, proclaiming his everlasting love if she would choose him and not Billy Boyd, which was of course impossible for her to do.
She started eating a lot more salami, too.
******
“King Thranduil did WHAT?”
“Shhh!” Lina hushed sharply. “Miss Cam said not to tell anyone. Might lead to some of your friends wanting to go to Earth as well. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you.”
“Earth…” Gimli said slowly and speculatively. “Which country of Earth did you say Peter Jackson came from again?”
“Um… New Zealand. Why do you ask?”
“No reason, no reason,” Gimli said hurriedly, but he couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice. He sounded like he’d found a whole vein of mithril still un-mined. “You said Miss Pika saw the Elvenking steal some books of Miss Cam’s and make a portal to Earth…”
“Yeah. Miss Pika thinks he bribed Gollum to show him how to do it. Gollum certainly knows how, from that whole Holy Grail stealing. Only he’s not very good at getting it right.”
Gimli nodded and looked fondly up at the dead Care Bear he’d hung up on the wall as a trophy. “Good times.”
“So Miss Cam’s gone after him discreetly and she’s left Gandalf’s in charge, but I’m to be second-in-command.”
“Lina Holling, a woman of power.”
“I could order you around.”
“Please do.”
At that point, Merry decided it was best not to keep on spying. Not that the two would notice, but news this exciting had to be shared now. Quickly, he edged back into the tunnel and placed the plate back in its place under the Dwarf’s bed (he could hear Lina giggle as he crawled away, which probably meant the two would be occupied for a while). Gimli had dug the tunnel between his room and Legolas’s as an escape route for the Elf, but since it also passed under one of the food storage rooms, the Hobbits had been quick to discover it and add some additional entrances.
Pippin was sitting on the barrel of mushrooms still and was nibbling on a potato when Merry crawled into the hobbit staff gym (since no hobbit was ever there, it was perfect to use as a base for food raids).
“Merry! I was beginning to think you’ve gotten stuck. Where’s the other barrel?”
“Forget the other barrel. What I know can get us mushrooms to fill all of Bag End.”
“Bag End full of mushrooms…” Pippin said in awe. “How, Merry?”
“King Thranduil has gone to Earth – and Pippin, I have a very, very, very cunning plan.”
“More cunning than Saruman’s cunning plan of out-cunning Sauron?”
“Yes.”
“Oooooh…”
Meanwhile, on what had been a very ordinary Tuesday, the Elvenking was loose in Canada and he too had a very cunning plan…
*******
Part One
It was warm, it was bright and Kelly was not enjoying her physics lecture. In fact, she was not enjoying at the same level as she would not enjoy having her fingers broken one by one. She had already contemplated knocking herself unconscious with her calculus text, but had settled for attempting to bore herself to death instead.
An Elf walked by the window.
It took a few seconds for the eyes to pick up just what she was seeing and write it in capital letters across her brain, which jumped to attention with such a start she nearly fell off her chair.
There had been an Elf at the window. It seemed to have gone out of sight now, which either meant her brain had gone insane from physics and made her hallucinate or all her dreams had come true.
She edged out of her seat with the stealth of cat (well, she would have, hadn’t she knocked her book over), sneaked along the chairs with the grace of a gazelle (or would have, had she not stepped on three feet and a backpack) and slipped out of the building as quietly as a sleeping mouse (or would have, had she not slammed the door in excitement). Turning the corner, she strode as elegantly as a moose in a swamp and slammed right into something soft.
“Oh, shit,” she muttered and nearly fell back on her backpack. It was the Elf!
She looked up at All Her Dreams Come True dreamily and All Her Dreams Come True looked back, flipped open a book and spoke.
“I seek the Orlando Bloom, kind child. Please I take to him?”
“He’s in LA shooting a film,” Kelly managed to reply, trying not to squeal as the Elf smiled back. His ears were so pointy she wanted to lick them all over.
“LA? Please I take to LA?”
“Well, you’d have to drive…”
And thus it was that Kelly and All Her Dreams Come True set off for LA in her lecturer’s red convertible which King Thranduil had seemed suitable for a Royal transportation. It just wouldn’t do to actor-nap Orlando Bloom without some style.
*****
Peter Jackson was happily asleep and dreaming of happy sheep, only the happy sleep seemed to be arguing. In a very weird language which he happily assumed to be sheep-ish.
It was perhaps just as well he did not understand sheepish, for the whispered argument would probably have ruined his happy sleep.
In English, it would have sounded a bit like this.
“I’m telling you, that is not the right Peter Jackson!”
“But it said so on his letterbox, Saruman. I am sure I translated it right! And this is the area he is supposed to live in!”
“Assuredly, Lord Denethor, but remember what Lina once said about it being normal in her world with many people having the same name?”
“That must be most inconvenient.”
There was a brief pause in the argument as all considered this and thought with pity of Legolas the Other, who was assuredly not from Mirkwood, yet got glomped every day.
Peter Jackson the Wrong rolled over and snored.
“This is a painting of Peter Jackson I found in a strange painted book. This is how he looks.”
“His beard is less impressive than yours, Saruman.”
“Thank you, Haldir. You are most kind.”
“If this is the wrong Peter Jackson, then let us go get the right one.”
“Yes….”
Even in his sleep, Peter Jackson the Wrong felt that the sheep had just said something very ominous in his weird sheep language. But after that, the sheep seemed to have fallen silent and Peter slept on and dreamt about pointy-eared men and long, white beards.
Meanwhile, some distance away, another Peter Jackson was about to get a very rude awakening.
******
Lina awoke slowly, feeling hair tickle against her shoulder and sunlight stream down on her face. And it was silent. Blissfully, peacefully silent.
She frowned slightly, wondering why this seemed to her to be so very, very Wronge. Something was amiss. She could feel it all the way to her bones.
The silence!
She bolted upwards, causing Gimli to curse in Dwarvish as he fell off the bed. She paid it no heed, leaping over him and out into the hall.
It was empty and quiet. Not even a distant Morgoth/Sauron fight could be heard. No merry Elven singing, no Boromir complaining. A full breakfast table and no Hobbits there.
“Oh, shit, shit, shit!” she muttered.
“Lina?”
She turned to see Penn approaching, looking as worried as Lina felt.
“Where is everyone?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you’d know. The mini-Balrogs are all despondent and the only ones who have turned up to classes are the students. I can’t find a Canon character anywhere.”
A horrible, horrible suspicion occurred to Lina. It was so horrible it could only be true.
“GOLLUM!”
******
Of course, Gollum was not at OFUM. He wasn’t even in Middle-earth. The sneaky Hobbits had given him many shiny things for his little help and he had to hide his catch somewhere. Somewhere safe, where no filthy thieveses could ever steal it. He had pondered long and hard and finally had a most cunning plan.
The cunning plan had led him to climb into the kitchen window and smile to very wide-eyed Andy Serkis.
In this case, Gollum figured, two Gollums were much better than one.
*****
Part Two
Normally, a quiet day at OFUM would be appricated by the students, for it meant less injuries and more time to enjoy the simple things in life – lusting, food, sleeping in, more lusting… But with no Canon characters about, even students found themselves longing for the less quiet times. Some even turned to lust after each to pass the time.
Lina was too busy worrying about Miss Cam’s reaction to consider the students. Miss Cam was going to have a fit. Unless it could all be fixed before she came back…
“All right, so who have we pinned down?”
“Not many,” Gimli replied, who had spent the morning heroically trying to get information out of mini-Balrogs. “King Thranduil went first and we suspect he is going after Orlando Bloom.”
“Oh, he is. But Miss Cam is dealing with that.”
“Legolas is apparently also going after Orlando Bloom,” Gimli went on. “Understandably, if you ask me. I’d like to have a few words with that John Rhys…”
“Gimli!”
“I’m just saying! Gandalf seems to have gone with him. We know Faramir and Éowyn have gone together somewhere.”
“To see David Wenham, I bet,” Lina muttered. “Denethor is after Peter Jackson, I know it. We don’t know who is with him. The Hobbits have probably gone somewher there is much food and drink. Hoo boy, this is some mess. We have to get them all back before they totally mess up my world.”
“Any idea where to start?”
“Yes,” Lina muttered irritably. “Get the Mirkwood Elves back here before they do anything stupid looking for King Thranduil.”
*****
In New Zealand, it was night and people slept.
Well, most people slept.
Aimee was at first not sure what had woken her. The wind, perhaps, yet she it was only a gentle hum. Her lusty dream about Orlando Bloom had been very enganging, so she hadn’t woken from a bad dream.
Then she realised it was the running footsteps.
Cursing, she lept out of bed to tell her neighbours for the gazillionth time not to run through their yard, opened the window and…
It wasn’t the neighbour. It was a wildly unkempt man in pyjamas being chased by a man with long, white beard, two men with pointed ears and a man in stately robes that was trying to clob the chased man with a horn.
For a moment she just stared. Then very slowly she reached for the phone.
“Hello, the police? I think there as some escaped mental patients in my garden…”
*****
“Are you sure this is the place, Sauron?”
“Yes!”
“Only, you have the brain of a oliphaunt’s yeast infection, so I would expect you to get it wrong.”
“Shut up, you vacillated Vala. This is the place, I am sure of it.”
“This is the dwelling of this world’s leader? This tiny white house? It has no spires, no great doors, no spikes… I’m appalled at the lack of standards.”
“Good thing we are here to change that,” Sauron said with a grin. “Shall we?”
“We shall.”
*****
“So Merry said to me – didn’t you, Merry?- that we should find the two original Urple Bandits, the two who gave the fangirls the idea we were all about the pranks.”
“An idea we were only too happy to oblige with. We owe you hours of fun.”
The two Hobbits looked expectedly at Billy Boyd and Dominic Monaghan but neither answered. They were too busy staring.
“Are you sure they understand us, Pippin?”
“Saruman said the spell he cast would make us understood in this world. Maybe they’ve lost their hearing.”
Pippin considered this and leaned in to whisper. “Maybe we shouldn’t have greeted them with that song. Maybe they don’t like hedgehogs.”
Merry nodded and then, because Billy and Dom was not eating it and it was a shame to waste anything, he had both the gift mushrooms the Hobbits had brought.
“Dom?”
“Yes, Billy?”
“You can stop pinching me now. I’m still seeing Hobbits.”
“So am I.”
“We’ve gone mad, haven’t we?”
Pippin smiled happily. “Merry, they talk! Bring the beer!”
Billy and Dom looked at each other, then took the beer mugs pressed into their hands by an eager Merry.
At least madness came bringing gifts.
*****
Orlando Bloom hummed as he entered his trailer. It had been a good shoot and he felt fairly pleased with…
“Ahem.”
The voice sounded strangely familiar in a way and he turned to see Sir Ian McKellen dressed as Gandalf. Except not quite. And next to him… was himself. As Legolas. Except not.
Orlando could only stare at him. Surely this was a nightmare or a hallucination or…? He ran out of options and cursed.
“Bloody hell!”
The Legolas smiled apologetically and spoke, accent strange and unidentifiable. “I am Legolas, this is Gandalf. We have come to take you away, Mr. Bloom.”
And strangely, one phrase at once lept to Orlando’s mind.
Hoo boy.
******
Miss Cam was annoyed.
It wasn’t an uncommon feeling for her, that much was true. But usually at OFUM, the fates were working with her. It had been a painful return to reality where the fates was not on anyone’s side, as they were too busy trying to figure out how the humans of this world had made away with them in the first place.
“You’re sure you saw the Elf riding off in a red car?”
Cleo just nodded helplessly. She had been out walking her dog when she had nearly been run down by a red car driven by what could only be a Royal Elf. She had known because the Elf had given her a Royal Wave that put the Queen’s to shame. And then some rude lady calling herself Miss Cam had come chasing and started asking very odd questions.
“Drat,” Miss Cam muttered. “All right, what is the easiest way to get from here to the US?”
“You head south?” Cleo suggested, “following that army of marching Elves?”
“What?” Miss Cam turned sharply. “Oh dear… I guess Mirkwood’s army is looking for their King.”
They both regarded the Elves for a moment, before noticing a dust storm rapidly moving towards them.
“And I guess that’ll be the army of drooling fangirls who spotted them...”
It was going to be a very interesting Tuesday in Canada after all.
Part Three
Peter Jackson was having a very vivid nightmare. At least that was what he kept telling himself as he ran and ran for what felt like eternity. The grass was wet and slippery under his feet and sometimes he almost tripped over the staff swung low at him by the bearded guy who he could have sworn was Christopher-Lee-as-Saruman. Surely Christopher was not that mad about his part being cut in movie three?
But then, actors had fragile egos. Panting, Peter managed to avoid another clobbing by the robed fellow and idly wondered why the man looked a bit like John-Noble-as-Denethor. Surely this was a dream. Too much work on the Lord of the Rings movie had probably left deep scars in his mind that only came out in nightmares.
He ran on, but suddenly noticed that the four pursuers were smirking and just jogging behind. Why were they smirking? This was not good. And why was a tree suddenly in his path? His mind jumped sideways at the sudden realisation, but his body did not.
Smack.
Treebeard looked down at the passed-out director by his feet with grim satisfaction.
“I am *not* boring! Hoom!”
******
Orlando Bloom had all in all taken it well, Legolas thought. The young man hadn’t fainted, hadn’t attempted to pull Gandalf’s beard off more than two times and had only pulled at Legolas’s hair once.
“Tell me again why I must come with you,” Orlando requested, rubbing his temples and looking slightly awed as Gandalf lit up a pipe with his staff.
“My father wish to take you to my world so the students may chase you and not me.”
“And your father is King Thranduil of Mirkwood?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re Legolas.”
“Yes.”
“The character I played in three movies.”
“Yes.”
“You’re real.”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve come to save me.”
“Yes.”
“You’re Legolas.”
“We have established that.”
“Legolas. The Elf. Leggy.”
Gandalf shook his head and gave Legolas an exasperated look as they carefully guided a bewildered Orlando out of the trailer. “I can just clog him with my staff and we can take him with us silently.”
“Gandalf!”
“It was just a suggestion,” Gandalf replied, then muttered under his breath. “But if he calls me ‘Gandy’, I shall plague Mr. Bloom’s dreams with fangirl fantasies every night.”
In the distance, fansgirl could almost be heard squeeing.
******
It was hot, it was crowded and the teacher’s voice in Chinese seemed to drone on and on. All in all, DT Maxwell had good reason to zone out. Reality didn’t have much on offer at the moment.
Instead, she thought of horses. And then she thought of hot men on horses. It was a bit of a hobby, really. She planned to indulge herself later in the day and perhaps rent a few movies of horses and hot men. The only question was whether she should focus on the horses or the hot men.
It was perhaps because she had zoned out she was only vaguely aware that the language had changed to English and that two strangers had entered uninvited and were talking.
“…I am Aragorn and this is Boromir. We represent the Society of Unavailable Men, Elves & Hobbits ™,” a voice said, and DT Maxwell snapped out of her zone so fast her brain suffered whiplash injuries. Viggo-Mortensen-as-Aragorn and Sean-Bean-as-Boromir was standing by the teacher (who looked as if the moon had just fallen out and turned out to be made of Jarlsberg cheese), each carrying a sack. (Her brain refused to consider the idea of them being anyone else, such as the actual Boromir and Aragorn. Fictional characters were fictional, damnit! That’s what made them so safe to lust.)
“We come in peace bearing gifts,” Boromir went on. “King Elessar?”
“I offer you a pair of shackles,” Aragorn said, opening his sack. The entire class leaned forward in baffled silence. “For my marriage to Arwen is a pair of shackles none of you have the key to. We are bound as one. I am unavailable. Tell a friend.”
“I bring you a replica tombstone in miniature. It is just a friendly reminder that I am dead. I have one for you all,” Boromir said, smiling. “I am unavailable. Tell a friend.”
There was a brief silence.
The next thing DT remembered was attempting to knock out Jah'dell with a tombstone as both fought to reach Viggo-as-Aragorn first, but instead ending up headknocking the other girl. Dimly she heard Sean-as-Boromir’s voice among the ringing noise in her head.
“I told you leaders should delegate unpleasant tasks, Aragorn. Send the Gondorian army.”
******
Evel was eating lunch, only vaguely paying attention to the TV and its flashing ‘Breaking News’ sign. After all, how important could it be that the US had been taken over and that the half the female population of Canada had seemingly abandoned their homes to go hunt Elves? No, what was more important was that she had found a whole new cache of lovely Sean Astin images online and as soon as she had eaten lunch, they’d be all hers to enjoy. And maybe, if she was very generous, she’d share them with fellow Sean-luster Rosie. Maybe.
Maybe she’d even drop by Rosie’s to drop hints about the amazing catch.
Smirking, she deciced to end the lunch early and step out in the brilliant sunshine. It was quite a nice day, warm and realitivly cloud-free. But of course, not all dark clouds appear in the sky.
“You!”
She found herself jumping to attention at the unmistakingly voice of authority without even thinking, as somewhere deep in her bones she knew pain would follow if she did not.
The man – at least she assumed it was a man – who had spoke was cloaked in black and was follow by another dressed in black who was definitely a man. Very much so. And armed with a sword slung casually over his shoulder.
“Yes… S-Sir?” she stuttered. “Your Highness? Your Divinity? Um…Your Cloackedness?”
The other man sniggered and rolled his eyes. She was tempted to stick her tongue out at him, but the sword seemed to give her a dark gleam warning against it.
The cloacked man paid no heed. “You are a child of this kingdom the Dark Lords have taken over, are you not?”
She blinked. She really should pay more attention to who got elected President “Um, yes?”
“Are there any kingdoms that may be willing to aid us toss Morgoth into Ungoliant’s dark bosom? Who perhaps have dared oppose this kingdom before?”
Evel was now quite sure she had gone mad. It was too much Sean Astin. Perhaps Rosie had been right to insist the cuteness was enough to make you lose your mind. But some part of her brain seemed to still live, for it spoke.
“Well, there was France and Germany during the whole Iraq debacle. I mean, they were pretty opposing… I think.”
“France and Germany?” The cloacked man seemed to think and exchanged a glance with the other. “I shall take France and you can take Germany, Túrin.”
“If I must, Fëanor.”
Evel watched the two walk away and decide to go lie down some and rest her poor, confused mind.
The sleep got interrupted when Rosie called with the exciting news that two tiny people and two average humans had been spotted robbing a mushroom storage and leaving the signature “Urple Bandits.” Rosie thought it was Hobbits. It seemed like a mad idea to Evel, until she noticed just what the Breaking News had been.
Morgoth and Sauron now ruled the US of A.
The whole world had seemingly gone mad, her mind concluded. But whoever said madness was only a bad thing?
She set out to hunt Hobbits.
Meanwhile, I need more icon space. Wah.
Cunning Plans Gone Awry
a.k.a. The OFUM Chapter That Never Was (But Did Happen)
*****
It was a bright, bright Tuesday, the kind of Tuesday you’d find pleasant and enjoyable, but not particularly memorable.
At least it was such a Tuesday until noon, when a swirly sort of thing suddenly appeared in a living room in Canada and a hippie stepped out. At least that’s what Elizabeth first assumed as she stared at the tall, tall blond being that suddenly stood between her and the television program she had been watching. Her brain was slightly hysterically wondering if she could stab him with the pen her hand was clutching, but the ‘hippie’ seemed not to notice.
He smiled, flicked open a small book, skimmed a page with great care and then gave her another great smile.
“Am I in the land of America whose States are United and is the dwelling of Orlando Bloom, who I have no intention of all harming?”
Elizabeth blinked. And slowly her brain started to notice slight details – the pointy ears, the regal look, the general hotness, the rather strange attire, the familiar air about him – and jumped to a startling conclusion.
“...Er, hithereyourmajestyIswearIdon'tlustafteryoursonwannaring?” she squealed.
King Thranduil gave her a blank look for a moment, then glanced down at his book again while muttering something in a strange tongue.
“Jeg spurte om jeg var i Forente Amerika Stater, hvor bor den Orlando Bloom som jeg ikke skade skal,” he declared, flashing another smile.
”What?” Elizabeth replied and wondered if her lunch had been a bit unusual today. Full of LSD, for instance. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again the hallucination did seem to be gone.
Her front door opened and closed with just the faintest hiss of air.
After tossing her lunch and swearing to never have salami ever again, she sat down to calmly ogle Billy Boyd a bit to calm her nerves. Though, she could not help but wonder at the oddidity of having another hallucination a bit like the first one (who had come one night and claimed to be Evil!Thranduil and that she had to enrol at some University or another). Most odd.
A slight tap on her shoulder made her scream and nearly fall off the sofa.
“Good afternoon. Did a tall blond Elf perchance pass through your living room just now?” the woman asked in a pleasant voice, as if that was the most normal question in the world to ask.
“Um… Yes?”
“Ah, good. Did he happen to say where he was going?”
“He mentioned Orlando Bloom?” Elizabeth offered weakly.
“Ah. Thank you.” The woman flashed a smile. “Well, I shall see you next year at OFUM. Tata.”
It took Elizabeth a few hours to calm down, but when she told her friends the story the following day, King Thranduil had ravished her on the sofa, proclaiming his everlasting love if she would choose him and not Billy Boyd, which was of course impossible for her to do.
She started eating a lot more salami, too.
******
“King Thranduil did WHAT?”
“Shhh!” Lina hushed sharply. “Miss Cam said not to tell anyone. Might lead to some of your friends wanting to go to Earth as well. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you.”
“Earth…” Gimli said slowly and speculatively. “Which country of Earth did you say Peter Jackson came from again?”
“Um… New Zealand. Why do you ask?”
“No reason, no reason,” Gimli said hurriedly, but he couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice. He sounded like he’d found a whole vein of mithril still un-mined. “You said Miss Pika saw the Elvenking steal some books of Miss Cam’s and make a portal to Earth…”
“Yeah. Miss Pika thinks he bribed Gollum to show him how to do it. Gollum certainly knows how, from that whole Holy Grail stealing. Only he’s not very good at getting it right.”
Gimli nodded and looked fondly up at the dead Care Bear he’d hung up on the wall as a trophy. “Good times.”
“So Miss Cam’s gone after him discreetly and she’s left Gandalf’s in charge, but I’m to be second-in-command.”
“Lina Holling, a woman of power.”
“I could order you around.”
“Please do.”
At that point, Merry decided it was best not to keep on spying. Not that the two would notice, but news this exciting had to be shared now. Quickly, he edged back into the tunnel and placed the plate back in its place under the Dwarf’s bed (he could hear Lina giggle as he crawled away, which probably meant the two would be occupied for a while). Gimli had dug the tunnel between his room and Legolas’s as an escape route for the Elf, but since it also passed under one of the food storage rooms, the Hobbits had been quick to discover it and add some additional entrances.
Pippin was sitting on the barrel of mushrooms still and was nibbling on a potato when Merry crawled into the hobbit staff gym (since no hobbit was ever there, it was perfect to use as a base for food raids).
“Merry! I was beginning to think you’ve gotten stuck. Where’s the other barrel?”
“Forget the other barrel. What I know can get us mushrooms to fill all of Bag End.”
“Bag End full of mushrooms…” Pippin said in awe. “How, Merry?”
“King Thranduil has gone to Earth – and Pippin, I have a very, very, very cunning plan.”
“More cunning than Saruman’s cunning plan of out-cunning Sauron?”
“Yes.”
“Oooooh…”
Meanwhile, on what had been a very ordinary Tuesday, the Elvenking was loose in Canada and he too had a very cunning plan…
*******
Part One
It was warm, it was bright and Kelly was not enjoying her physics lecture. In fact, she was not enjoying at the same level as she would not enjoy having her fingers broken one by one. She had already contemplated knocking herself unconscious with her calculus text, but had settled for attempting to bore herself to death instead.
An Elf walked by the window.
It took a few seconds for the eyes to pick up just what she was seeing and write it in capital letters across her brain, which jumped to attention with such a start she nearly fell off her chair.
There had been an Elf at the window. It seemed to have gone out of sight now, which either meant her brain had gone insane from physics and made her hallucinate or all her dreams had come true.
She edged out of her seat with the stealth of cat (well, she would have, hadn’t she knocked her book over), sneaked along the chairs with the grace of a gazelle (or would have, had she not stepped on three feet and a backpack) and slipped out of the building as quietly as a sleeping mouse (or would have, had she not slammed the door in excitement). Turning the corner, she strode as elegantly as a moose in a swamp and slammed right into something soft.
“Oh, shit,” she muttered and nearly fell back on her backpack. It was the Elf!
She looked up at All Her Dreams Come True dreamily and All Her Dreams Come True looked back, flipped open a book and spoke.
“I seek the Orlando Bloom, kind child. Please I take to him?”
“He’s in LA shooting a film,” Kelly managed to reply, trying not to squeal as the Elf smiled back. His ears were so pointy she wanted to lick them all over.
“LA? Please I take to LA?”
“Well, you’d have to drive…”
And thus it was that Kelly and All Her Dreams Come True set off for LA in her lecturer’s red convertible which King Thranduil had seemed suitable for a Royal transportation. It just wouldn’t do to actor-nap Orlando Bloom without some style.
*****
Peter Jackson was happily asleep and dreaming of happy sheep, only the happy sleep seemed to be arguing. In a very weird language which he happily assumed to be sheep-ish.
It was perhaps just as well he did not understand sheepish, for the whispered argument would probably have ruined his happy sleep.
In English, it would have sounded a bit like this.
“I’m telling you, that is not the right Peter Jackson!”
“But it said so on his letterbox, Saruman. I am sure I translated it right! And this is the area he is supposed to live in!”
“Assuredly, Lord Denethor, but remember what Lina once said about it being normal in her world with many people having the same name?”
“That must be most inconvenient.”
There was a brief pause in the argument as all considered this and thought with pity of Legolas the Other, who was assuredly not from Mirkwood, yet got glomped every day.
Peter Jackson the Wrong rolled over and snored.
“This is a painting of Peter Jackson I found in a strange painted book. This is how he looks.”
“His beard is less impressive than yours, Saruman.”
“Thank you, Haldir. You are most kind.”
“If this is the wrong Peter Jackson, then let us go get the right one.”
“Yes….”
Even in his sleep, Peter Jackson the Wrong felt that the sheep had just said something very ominous in his weird sheep language. But after that, the sheep seemed to have fallen silent and Peter slept on and dreamt about pointy-eared men and long, white beards.
Meanwhile, some distance away, another Peter Jackson was about to get a very rude awakening.
******
Lina awoke slowly, feeling hair tickle against her shoulder and sunlight stream down on her face. And it was silent. Blissfully, peacefully silent.
She frowned slightly, wondering why this seemed to her to be so very, very Wronge. Something was amiss. She could feel it all the way to her bones.
The silence!
She bolted upwards, causing Gimli to curse in Dwarvish as he fell off the bed. She paid it no heed, leaping over him and out into the hall.
It was empty and quiet. Not even a distant Morgoth/Sauron fight could be heard. No merry Elven singing, no Boromir complaining. A full breakfast table and no Hobbits there.
“Oh, shit, shit, shit!” she muttered.
“Lina?”
She turned to see Penn approaching, looking as worried as Lina felt.
“Where is everyone?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you’d know. The mini-Balrogs are all despondent and the only ones who have turned up to classes are the students. I can’t find a Canon character anywhere.”
A horrible, horrible suspicion occurred to Lina. It was so horrible it could only be true.
“GOLLUM!”
******
Of course, Gollum was not at OFUM. He wasn’t even in Middle-earth. The sneaky Hobbits had given him many shiny things for his little help and he had to hide his catch somewhere. Somewhere safe, where no filthy thieveses could ever steal it. He had pondered long and hard and finally had a most cunning plan.
The cunning plan had led him to climb into the kitchen window and smile to very wide-eyed Andy Serkis.
In this case, Gollum figured, two Gollums were much better than one.
*****
Part Two
Normally, a quiet day at OFUM would be appricated by the students, for it meant less injuries and more time to enjoy the simple things in life – lusting, food, sleeping in, more lusting… But with no Canon characters about, even students found themselves longing for the less quiet times. Some even turned to lust after each to pass the time.
Lina was too busy worrying about Miss Cam’s reaction to consider the students. Miss Cam was going to have a fit. Unless it could all be fixed before she came back…
“All right, so who have we pinned down?”
“Not many,” Gimli replied, who had spent the morning heroically trying to get information out of mini-Balrogs. “King Thranduil went first and we suspect he is going after Orlando Bloom.”
“Oh, he is. But Miss Cam is dealing with that.”
“Legolas is apparently also going after Orlando Bloom,” Gimli went on. “Understandably, if you ask me. I’d like to have a few words with that John Rhys…”
“Gimli!”
“I’m just saying! Gandalf seems to have gone with him. We know Faramir and Éowyn have gone together somewhere.”
“To see David Wenham, I bet,” Lina muttered. “Denethor is after Peter Jackson, I know it. We don’t know who is with him. The Hobbits have probably gone somewher there is much food and drink. Hoo boy, this is some mess. We have to get them all back before they totally mess up my world.”
“Any idea where to start?”
“Yes,” Lina muttered irritably. “Get the Mirkwood Elves back here before they do anything stupid looking for King Thranduil.”
*****
In New Zealand, it was night and people slept.
Well, most people slept.
Aimee was at first not sure what had woken her. The wind, perhaps, yet she it was only a gentle hum. Her lusty dream about Orlando Bloom had been very enganging, so she hadn’t woken from a bad dream.
Then she realised it was the running footsteps.
Cursing, she lept out of bed to tell her neighbours for the gazillionth time not to run through their yard, opened the window and…
It wasn’t the neighbour. It was a wildly unkempt man in pyjamas being chased by a man with long, white beard, two men with pointed ears and a man in stately robes that was trying to clob the chased man with a horn.
For a moment she just stared. Then very slowly she reached for the phone.
“Hello, the police? I think there as some escaped mental patients in my garden…”
*****
“Are you sure this is the place, Sauron?”
“Yes!”
“Only, you have the brain of a oliphaunt’s yeast infection, so I would expect you to get it wrong.”
“Shut up, you vacillated Vala. This is the place, I am sure of it.”
“This is the dwelling of this world’s leader? This tiny white house? It has no spires, no great doors, no spikes… I’m appalled at the lack of standards.”
“Good thing we are here to change that,” Sauron said with a grin. “Shall we?”
“We shall.”
*****
“So Merry said to me – didn’t you, Merry?- that we should find the two original Urple Bandits, the two who gave the fangirls the idea we were all about the pranks.”
“An idea we were only too happy to oblige with. We owe you hours of fun.”
The two Hobbits looked expectedly at Billy Boyd and Dominic Monaghan but neither answered. They were too busy staring.
“Are you sure they understand us, Pippin?”
“Saruman said the spell he cast would make us understood in this world. Maybe they’ve lost their hearing.”
Pippin considered this and leaned in to whisper. “Maybe we shouldn’t have greeted them with that song. Maybe they don’t like hedgehogs.”
Merry nodded and then, because Billy and Dom was not eating it and it was a shame to waste anything, he had both the gift mushrooms the Hobbits had brought.
“Dom?”
“Yes, Billy?”
“You can stop pinching me now. I’m still seeing Hobbits.”
“So am I.”
“We’ve gone mad, haven’t we?”
Pippin smiled happily. “Merry, they talk! Bring the beer!”
Billy and Dom looked at each other, then took the beer mugs pressed into their hands by an eager Merry.
At least madness came bringing gifts.
*****
Orlando Bloom hummed as he entered his trailer. It had been a good shoot and he felt fairly pleased with…
“Ahem.”
The voice sounded strangely familiar in a way and he turned to see Sir Ian McKellen dressed as Gandalf. Except not quite. And next to him… was himself. As Legolas. Except not.
Orlando could only stare at him. Surely this was a nightmare or a hallucination or…? He ran out of options and cursed.
“Bloody hell!”
The Legolas smiled apologetically and spoke, accent strange and unidentifiable. “I am Legolas, this is Gandalf. We have come to take you away, Mr. Bloom.”
And strangely, one phrase at once lept to Orlando’s mind.
Hoo boy.
******
Miss Cam was annoyed.
It wasn’t an uncommon feeling for her, that much was true. But usually at OFUM, the fates were working with her. It had been a painful return to reality where the fates was not on anyone’s side, as they were too busy trying to figure out how the humans of this world had made away with them in the first place.
“You’re sure you saw the Elf riding off in a red car?”
Cleo just nodded helplessly. She had been out walking her dog when she had nearly been run down by a red car driven by what could only be a Royal Elf. She had known because the Elf had given her a Royal Wave that put the Queen’s to shame. And then some rude lady calling herself Miss Cam had come chasing and started asking very odd questions.
“Drat,” Miss Cam muttered. “All right, what is the easiest way to get from here to the US?”
“You head south?” Cleo suggested, “following that army of marching Elves?”
“What?” Miss Cam turned sharply. “Oh dear… I guess Mirkwood’s army is looking for their King.”
They both regarded the Elves for a moment, before noticing a dust storm rapidly moving towards them.
“And I guess that’ll be the army of drooling fangirls who spotted them...”
It was going to be a very interesting Tuesday in Canada after all.
Part Three
Peter Jackson was having a very vivid nightmare. At least that was what he kept telling himself as he ran and ran for what felt like eternity. The grass was wet and slippery under his feet and sometimes he almost tripped over the staff swung low at him by the bearded guy who he could have sworn was Christopher-Lee-as-Saruman. Surely Christopher was not that mad about his part being cut in movie three?
But then, actors had fragile egos. Panting, Peter managed to avoid another clobbing by the robed fellow and idly wondered why the man looked a bit like John-Noble-as-Denethor. Surely this was a dream. Too much work on the Lord of the Rings movie had probably left deep scars in his mind that only came out in nightmares.
He ran on, but suddenly noticed that the four pursuers were smirking and just jogging behind. Why were they smirking? This was not good. And why was a tree suddenly in his path? His mind jumped sideways at the sudden realisation, but his body did not.
Smack.
Treebeard looked down at the passed-out director by his feet with grim satisfaction.
“I am *not* boring! Hoom!”
******
Orlando Bloom had all in all taken it well, Legolas thought. The young man hadn’t fainted, hadn’t attempted to pull Gandalf’s beard off more than two times and had only pulled at Legolas’s hair once.
“Tell me again why I must come with you,” Orlando requested, rubbing his temples and looking slightly awed as Gandalf lit up a pipe with his staff.
“My father wish to take you to my world so the students may chase you and not me.”
“And your father is King Thranduil of Mirkwood?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re Legolas.”
“Yes.”
“The character I played in three movies.”
“Yes.”
“You’re real.”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve come to save me.”
“Yes.”
“You’re Legolas.”
“We have established that.”
“Legolas. The Elf. Leggy.”
Gandalf shook his head and gave Legolas an exasperated look as they carefully guided a bewildered Orlando out of the trailer. “I can just clog him with my staff and we can take him with us silently.”
“Gandalf!”
“It was just a suggestion,” Gandalf replied, then muttered under his breath. “But if he calls me ‘Gandy’, I shall plague Mr. Bloom’s dreams with fangirl fantasies every night.”
In the distance, fansgirl could almost be heard squeeing.
******
It was hot, it was crowded and the teacher’s voice in Chinese seemed to drone on and on. All in all, DT Maxwell had good reason to zone out. Reality didn’t have much on offer at the moment.
Instead, she thought of horses. And then she thought of hot men on horses. It was a bit of a hobby, really. She planned to indulge herself later in the day and perhaps rent a few movies of horses and hot men. The only question was whether she should focus on the horses or the hot men.
It was perhaps because she had zoned out she was only vaguely aware that the language had changed to English and that two strangers had entered uninvited and were talking.
“…I am Aragorn and this is Boromir. We represent the Society of Unavailable Men, Elves & Hobbits ™,” a voice said, and DT Maxwell snapped out of her zone so fast her brain suffered whiplash injuries. Viggo-Mortensen-as-Aragorn and Sean-Bean-as-Boromir was standing by the teacher (who looked as if the moon had just fallen out and turned out to be made of Jarlsberg cheese), each carrying a sack. (Her brain refused to consider the idea of them being anyone else, such as the actual Boromir and Aragorn. Fictional characters were fictional, damnit! That’s what made them so safe to lust.)
“We come in peace bearing gifts,” Boromir went on. “King Elessar?”
“I offer you a pair of shackles,” Aragorn said, opening his sack. The entire class leaned forward in baffled silence. “For my marriage to Arwen is a pair of shackles none of you have the key to. We are bound as one. I am unavailable. Tell a friend.”
“I bring you a replica tombstone in miniature. It is just a friendly reminder that I am dead. I have one for you all,” Boromir said, smiling. “I am unavailable. Tell a friend.”
There was a brief silence.
The next thing DT remembered was attempting to knock out Jah'dell with a tombstone as both fought to reach Viggo-as-Aragorn first, but instead ending up headknocking the other girl. Dimly she heard Sean-as-Boromir’s voice among the ringing noise in her head.
“I told you leaders should delegate unpleasant tasks, Aragorn. Send the Gondorian army.”
******
Evel was eating lunch, only vaguely paying attention to the TV and its flashing ‘Breaking News’ sign. After all, how important could it be that the US had been taken over and that the half the female population of Canada had seemingly abandoned their homes to go hunt Elves? No, what was more important was that she had found a whole new cache of lovely Sean Astin images online and as soon as she had eaten lunch, they’d be all hers to enjoy. And maybe, if she was very generous, she’d share them with fellow Sean-luster Rosie. Maybe.
Maybe she’d even drop by Rosie’s to drop hints about the amazing catch.
Smirking, she deciced to end the lunch early and step out in the brilliant sunshine. It was quite a nice day, warm and realitivly cloud-free. But of course, not all dark clouds appear in the sky.
“You!”
She found herself jumping to attention at the unmistakingly voice of authority without even thinking, as somewhere deep in her bones she knew pain would follow if she did not.
The man – at least she assumed it was a man – who had spoke was cloaked in black and was follow by another dressed in black who was definitely a man. Very much so. And armed with a sword slung casually over his shoulder.
“Yes… S-Sir?” she stuttered. “Your Highness? Your Divinity? Um…Your Cloackedness?”
The other man sniggered and rolled his eyes. She was tempted to stick her tongue out at him, but the sword seemed to give her a dark gleam warning against it.
The cloacked man paid no heed. “You are a child of this kingdom the Dark Lords have taken over, are you not?”
She blinked. She really should pay more attention to who got elected President “Um, yes?”
“Are there any kingdoms that may be willing to aid us toss Morgoth into Ungoliant’s dark bosom? Who perhaps have dared oppose this kingdom before?”
Evel was now quite sure she had gone mad. It was too much Sean Astin. Perhaps Rosie had been right to insist the cuteness was enough to make you lose your mind. But some part of her brain seemed to still live, for it spoke.
“Well, there was France and Germany during the whole Iraq debacle. I mean, they were pretty opposing… I think.”
“France and Germany?” The cloacked man seemed to think and exchanged a glance with the other. “I shall take France and you can take Germany, Túrin.”
“If I must, Fëanor.”
Evel watched the two walk away and decide to go lie down some and rest her poor, confused mind.
The sleep got interrupted when Rosie called with the exciting news that two tiny people and two average humans had been spotted robbing a mushroom storage and leaving the signature “Urple Bandits.” Rosie thought it was Hobbits. It seemed like a mad idea to Evel, until she noticed just what the Breaking News had been.
Morgoth and Sauron now ruled the US of A.
The whole world had seemingly gone mad, her mind concluded. But whoever said madness was only a bad thing?
She set out to hunt Hobbits.
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Date: 2004-08-30 02:59 am (UTC)*runs away in case there are any people from Kent who read this*