It was 10-38 of a Saturday night, and Elena had already
put the kids to bed and let the dog out to pee. Claudio was making the
most of the fact that he didn’t have to work the next day by sitting down
in the computer room listening to mp3s of 80s pop classics he'd downloaded
from Napster, back when Napster was functional. The loudest, most annoying
part of "Bela Lugosi's Dead" played as Elena walked into the room. Claudio
quickly pressed Alt-Tab.
"What are you doing?"
Claudio tapped the screen, even though many people in his life had told
him that tapping the screen isn't a good idea. "Taking online IQ tests
and trying to beat my previous high score."
Elena narrowed her eyes warily. "Not looking up gay porn?"
"I never look up gay porn," said Claudio.
"Your desktop image is Elrond and Legolas naked together."
"I rarely look up gay porn."
"I checked your favourites folder on IE."
Claudio rolled his eyes and sighed menacingly. "Alright, what do you
have against gay porn anyway?"
Elena was silent for a moment. "Nothing," she eventually said.
"But we have a colour printer, don't we? At least be nice enough to
print some off to share every once in a while."
"Will do."
Then Elena left to watch the news on channel 4. Claudio resumed his
search for free fonts to download. Within ten minutes, he would receive
the strangest instant message ever recorded in the history of his general
neighbourhood.
Elrond's voice said, "Destroy it!" and Yahoo! Messenger displayed the following
window:
Eru_AF: Hello, Maryse.
Claudio said something like, "Huh...?" before replying.
il_perfido: My name
isn't Maryse.
Eru_AF: It is your user profile on my website.
il_perfido: I use that name and other fake
stats so I don't get jerks like you selling my valuable personal information
over the internet.
Eru_AF: Oh. Sorry.
Claudio closed the window and muttered, "Arsehole..." under his breath.
Another ten minutes passed, and another message popped up.
Eru_AF: Do you want
to be Maryse?
il_perfido: ...Huh?
Eru_AF: I need a saviour for my world. I chose
Maryse, but as she does not exist, you will have to do.
il_perfido: Do what?
Eru_AF: Save my world.
il_perfido: From what?
Eru_AF: Those who would destroy it.
il_perfido: More specific, please.
Eru_AF: Thousands upon thousands of Orcs, about
the same number of corrupted Men, a few werewolves and other creatures of
darkness, one fallen Maia, and my son Melkor. He is their leader.
il_perfido: Will I get paid?
Eru_AF: You will be paid with the gratitude
of the gods and honour surpassing all on Earth.
il_perfido: No money, you mean.
Eru_AF: Not as such, no.
il_perfido: Damn...
Eru_AF: Touch the computer screen.
Claudio frowned. He'd already touched the screen once that night and
didn't want to risk it again, in case all those people who say touching the
monitor wrecks it were right. He asked Eru_AF why, but there was no
response. "This is stupid..." he muttered. But still he tentatively
reached his hand up, and touched a finger to the centre of the screen.
A sudden shock of pink electricity shot forth from the four corners and streamed
into his body, knocking him backward with the jolt. He fell to the floor
and remembered thinking, before the darkness closed in and he lost consciousness,
that Elena was going to be really, really mad this time.
* * * * *
"Maryse... Maryse, wake up."
Maryse sighed and gently turned her head to the side before opening her
emerald green eyes. All she saw before her was gold, and was almost
confused until she realised it was just her long, silky hair, fallen haphazardly
across her perfectly peachy-pink heart-shaped face like a gilded taffeta
curtain that hides a breathtaking work of art until it is ceremoniously pulled
away at exactly the right moment. She lifted her delicate hand to brush
the shining tresses aside.
"Maryse, silly girl, you must've fallen asleep under the tree."
Blinking against the sun, Maryse slowly sat upright. "Ma... Maryse?"
She shook her head as if to clear it of confusion.
"Yes, daughter," laughed Hador. "Don't tell me you slept so long you
forgot your name?"
Slowly, Maryse stood and smoothed the shining silver fabric of her gown
that had become almost imperceptibly wrinkled as she slept. She also
took the time to straighten the twined mithril circlet that rested atop the
golden curls that fell down to her knees, and rearrange the shimmering aura
that floated about her magically. Then, as Hador looked about to speak
again, she lifted her hand with an impossibly graceful swoop, reminiscent
of a youthful dove at twilight soaring about the moors and seeking its one
true love. Time stopped.
She tilted her head crossly upward to regard Eru, who was sitting on a cloud
above. "I suppose this is all your fault," she said, and though her
voice was angry it still sounded as the chiming of bells and the music of
harps as one might hear in a cathedral made entirely out of silver.
Eru only shrugged. "I'm sorry," he said. "But Arda is in peril.
I needed to act fast. You must understand."
"By turning me into a girl?! The most magically beautiful girl ever
to walk the face of the earth?" Maryse shook her head and put her hands
on her hips. "As if this isn't the biggest cliché since having
Morgoth wear black!"
"Ah," said Eru, "but that's what's so ingenious about it! Everybody
already knows that staggeringly beautiful girls who show up randomly out of
nowhere always save the world, and they know it so well that they assume that
it can never happen! Nobody will suspect a thing until the world is
safe!"
"That doesn't make any sense."
Eru sighed. "Look, I'm making this up as I go along and I'm doing
the best I can. To be honest, I haven't thought out any details of
the plot. All I know is that I want a perfect girl to save the world,
and do it in style. Is that too much to ask?"
Maryse's ruby-red lips turned down almost enough to diminish her radiant
beauty, but not quite. "Well," she pouted, "I suppose I don't have much
of a choice do I, now that I'm here. I guess I can save your crummy
world. Though I'd better at least get some hot Elf sex out of the deal!"
"Deal," said Eru. He gave her a thumbs up.
"Hmph!" snorted Maryse. She gave another swirly hand gesture and time
started up again seamlessly. She smiled charmingly at Hador.
"Well father," she said, "you may not agree with what I'm going go say now,
but it is absolute necessity. I have been chosen by Eru Ilúvatar
himself to save this world from evil, and I must fulfil my amazing and unprecedented
destiny. I cannot allow anything to stand in my way."
"Oh daughter," said Hador, "I always knew that you would have a special
fate! For truly the fact that you even exist demands that you come
to greatness. Yes, it would be selfish of me to keep you here and tie
you down to an ordinary life such as all other women of your age and class
are known to lead in this day and age. Go, Maryse! Go and make
me proud do be your father! For although I have two perfectly good
heroic sons and one other lovely daughter already, I can never truly be proud
until you become the most beloved woman in Arda!"
Maryse giggled with the sound of a lark on the first day of June and hugged
her father firmly. "I knew you would understand! Thank you!"
Hador smiled sadly in return, suddenly overcome by the grief of losing this
bright jewel even for a short time, for he knew it wouldn't take her long
to save the world. "Yes, Maryse," he sighed, "I do understand.
And I will send my best wishes to you all the days you are gone. I will
also give you my pure white horse, which is the fastest in the land, to speed
you on your quest."
Then Hador went to the stable and fetched his pure white horse, Nimrovain.
As Maryse mounted he wiped away a single tear. "Eru protect you, daughter,"
he choked.
"Oh you can bet he will," said Maryse. And then she was off, flying
across the plain atop Nimrovain, golden hair flowing as a flaming banner of
ultimate victory behind her. She did not know why, but she simply knew
in her infallible mind that she must hurry to Nargothrond to consult with
Finrod, because although Fingolfin in Eithel Sirion and Turgon in Gondolin
were much closer, Finrod was both blond and single and thus in much more dire
need of saving. And although Nargothrond was hundreds of miles south
across field, mountain, forest and river, Maryse supposed she could make
the journey in just under two hours.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Exactly twenty minutes before supper an enigmatic lone rider showed up at
the gates of Nargothrond. How she crossed the river was a complete mystery
to all, but nonetheless she was there, long golden hair still streaming behind
her like a shimmering banner of royal welcome. And a royal welcome did
indeed ensue, complete with trumpeters and jesters and the strewing of jewels
on a plush purple triple-silk-velvet carpet. For although the Elves
had never seen Maryse before and had no idea who she was, they knew deep
down that she would be an honoured guest. Thus a huge and entirely spectacular
fuss was made, throughout which Maryse smiled at each and every last male
Elf, causing each heart in turn to melt into a quivering puddle of devoted
adoration and just the teeniest hint of unrequited lust. The female
Elves really should have been jealous, but for some strange reason they weren't.
The procession led Maryse through the cave palace and straight into the
banquet hall, where King Finrod was just at that exact moment lifting a forkful
of steamed spring asparagus with lemon-pepper sauce to his mouth. At
first sight of Maryse he dropped the monogrammed mithril fork and gasped
audibly.
When it appeared that Finrod had recovered, Maryse smiled sweetly and handed
him her card. He took it and read, "Marysue?"
Maryse giggled, and the sound was very much like pure water ripling across
the surface of a pond just outside of Doriath in the springtime while the
sun shone and there were no clouds. "No, silly," she said, with more
of the rippling water motif. "It's Maryse. Although..." and her
voice dropped to a purr, "all Maryse needs to become Mary-Sue is (wink wink)
*you*."
Finrod went a bit pale and his hand shook, upsetting the wine in his jewel-encrusted
gold goblet and causing it to spill in the lap of his silverish greeny-purple
silk tunic with real pearl buttons. It made a splotch the exact shape
of a dachshund. He put down his monogrammed mithril soup spoon and,
with his other hand, picked up a monogrammed purple silk napkin with monogrammed
purple silk embroidery and dabbed at the wine. His other hand remained
firmly clenched around the goblet, and his eyes never left Maryse.
Mistaking Finrod's wine-lap napkin-dabbing for some other gesture, Maryse
averted her virginal eyes. A pretty blush like a cluster of wild roses
blooming on the prairie of Dor-Lómin after the rainstorm in the middle
of summer six years ago stole across her virginal cheeks. "I see you
are busy, my lord," she sighed in her virginal voice. "I will await
you in my chambers."
Then Maryse pranced out of the banquet hall, all eyes lingering on her perfect
self as she did, her perfect golden hair flowing behind her like a perfect
cloud of gilded butterflies with mithril-tipped wings. She found her
chambers, which (even though the palace was underground) were on the third
floor and had large glass doors and a balcony overlooking a lake with a sunset
and loons and jumping fish. There were three rooms all prepared for
her already, each more beautiful than the last, and filled with fresh roses
and calla lilies. She flopped down on the purple silk bed, surrounded
by the perfume of three thousand six hundred eleven blossoms, and quickly
fell into a beautiful, peaceful sleep with the sunlight streaming in from
the windows at just the right angle to cast a soft glow of warm light over
her luminous face.
* * * * *
It was the knock at the door that startled Claudio from his sleep.
He groggily sat upright. The first thing he noticed was that he was
in a strange underground cave room. The second thing was that he was
wearing some sort of crazy Elf getup. He had just enough time to say,
"What the hell..." before the door opened.
Finrod took one step into the room before he stopped shocked in his tracks
and said, "...ú-nach Uinaeril."
Claudio had to think a minute before he guessed that probably meant, "you're
not Maryse." So he nodded and said, "My name's Claudio."
Finrod only gave him one of those looks that apparently meant, "What manner
of ridiculous language are you speaking?"
Claudio muttered, "Oh, right..." before remembering that part in the Lord
of the Rings movie where Arwen comes in. He tried again. "Im Claudio,"
he said, and then; "ú-bedin...uh... Sindarin."
Finrod only peered at him in a peculiar way.
"Great," said Claudio, "this is just great." He turned to Finrod and
said, very slowly for fear of making mistakes, "Er quetin Quenya, ar utúlien...
númenello."
Finrod made another face, but looked less wary than before. "Númenello?"
he asked.
"Nas," said Claudio, and he repeated, "númenello." He sincerely
hoped that word meant what he meant it to mean, and silently cursed this place
for not having internet access so he could look up some decent English-Elvish
dictionaries. For good measure he also cursed himself for not bothering
to actually learn Quenya instead of always just relying on the aforementioned
dictionaries.
"Er úvalyë quenda," said Finrod.
Claudio stared blankly.
"Ú-val-yë quen-da," Finrod said very slowly. He included
some useful hand gestures to get the message across, pointing to Claudio,
making an X with his hands, then pointing to himself and his pointy ears.
"Oh, right," said Claudio, and he shook his head. "Lá, nan
atan."
"Atan númenello?" Finrod asked, giving the distinct impression he
thought Claudio was fibbing.
"Nas."
Finrod looked at him for several long seconds. Claudio looked back.
This would probably have been a whole lot easier if Finrod weren't so distractingly
hot. But the fact was that Finrod's hotness was severely messing with
Claudio's already limited ability to think in any form of Elvish. At
the moment, he couldn't even remember the Quenya word for "tree".
Eventually Finrod just shook his head, muttered something that was too quiet
to hear but was probably rude, and quickly left. He shut the door behind
him with a rather ominous sound. Claudio yelled, "Hey!" and ran to the
door, but it was locked. Damn Noldorin efficiency. He tried pounding
on the door and yelling, "Come back here!" but by the time he remembered how
to say what he thought was a reasonable translation of that same phrase in
Sindarin, "Ad delithoch!" it was far too late.
"Great," he said. "Wonderful. Super. This is by far the most
excellent thing that has happened to me all week!" He kicked a nearby
table, causing something expensive-looking to fall to the floor and bend slightly.
"Aw, man..." Carefully, he picked it up and hid it in a drawer beneath
a stack of linens. With any luck, nobody would notice.
"Oohhhh..." he whined, "why couldn't I have just stayed Maryse?"
"Because I changed my mind," said a rather impressive voice behind him.
Claudio whirled around, but of course nobody was there. There was
only a large mirror hanging on the wall. However, as the mirror was
glowing somewhat and had a bit of swirly colour action going on in its centre,
Claudio guessed that this was probably where the voice was.
"If you're the fellow who turned me back from being Maryse, I'm going to
give you some serious grief!"
"Oh shush," said the mirror. "It was for your own good."
"What?! That's ridiculous! I'm abandoned and locked in some
underground Elf cave, I don't speak their language, this outfit leaves very
little to the imagination, and Finrod looks about ready to execute me for
trespassing!" He growled at the mirror and pressed his nose against
the glass. "How can this possibly be for my own good?!"
"It builds character," said the mirror. "Being Maryse was too easy.
Now you have a challenge."
"I don't want a challenge!" said Claudio. "I just want to get your
stupid world-saving quest over with so I can move on to the promised hot Elf
sex!"
"But isn't the reward so much more fulfilling when you know you've worked
hard for it?" asked the mirror.
Claudio shrugged. "Not particularly. I've always preferred low-risk
investments that yield high returns. So please, turn me back into Maryse.
Or better yet, a powered-up version of myself! You know, a version that
speaks Sindarin, is about six inches taller, and has some really brilliant
armour and a magic sword. And a pet dragon. Can I have a pet dragon?
With a saddle."
The mirror looked like it was shaking its head. Of course it didn't
have a head, but the swirling colours sort of wiggled a bit. "Oh no,"
it said, "No no no. I can't do that. Beren would never forgive
me if I made a man greater than he. We have a deal, you see..."
"Alright, alright, whatever," Claudio sighed. "Just turn me back into
Maryse then. Anything is better than being me!"
"Very well," said the mirror. "Walk three paces toward the door, spin
in a circle twice, touch your toes, do a somersault, crawl under the bed,
squirm out the other side, roll yourself up in the rug like a burrito, make
the noise of a tree falling over, and bounce on the bed seventeen times."
Claudio did all this exactly as he was told, then looked down at his body
expectantly, but much to his irritation he was not Maryse. "Erm, nothing's
happening," he said.
The mirror looked as if it were laughing. Its colours jiggled around
as it tried to contain a loud snicker. "I just wanted to see if you'd
do all that," it giggled.
Claudio rolled his eyes. Apparently God had a juvenile sense of humour.
"Alright, I'm sorry," the mirror said. "I'll turn you back into Maryse
now. Touch the centre of the mirror."
As Claudio did, another bolt of bright pink electricity shot up his arm,
causing him to fall over backward in shock and hit his head on the hard stone
floor. This time, though, his final thought before unconsciousness was
that he'd really have talk with Eru about doing transformations via cloudy
poof or some other much less damaging method.
To be continued
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