I had been a fan of Lord of the Rings slash for many years, but nothing, nothing, could prepare me for the terrible reality. Its one thing to read about it, but to witness it first hand was, well, Disturbing.

I had been in Middle-earth for a little over a year now. I had had an argument with my step-father who had subjected me to years of physical and mental abuse, so you could say I welcomed the agony when I was hit head on by a speeding lorry. My long auburn hair had been flapping in front of my face you see, & between that and the haze of anguished tears that filled my emerald green eyes, well, do I need to explain?

It had all started tremendously, I had met Elladan and Elrohir completely by chance; they had been searching for a plant with which to concoct a purple goo to throw over (delete as applicable) Elrond/Erestor/Glorfindel. Anyway, they saved me from the hoard of snarling orcs ready to rip my tiny form to shreds, or so I was told later, by the time they arrived I had fainted dead away, later awaking in the Houses of Healing, where I was tended to by Lord Elrond himself.

I was treated as an honoured guest in Rivendell; I was even given my own handmaiden, who personally made me the most beautiful gowns. Imagine that! Quickly becoming ingratiated into the happenings of Middle-earth, I soon became as a sister to Aragorn. And the hobbits! Well what darling creatures! The antics we engaged in shall become legendary in elven society, but the time for the telling of these tales is not now.

Together, Frodo Sam and I destroyed the ring, well how could I let them go alone? Although by now I was wondering why (delete as applicable) Haldir/Legolas/Aragorn/Elrond/Elladan/El rohir/Boromir hadn’t fallen in love with me. But I pushed my future happiness to the back of my mind for the sake of the hobbits. I had become an expert in archery and sword play within weeks under the instruction of Glorfindel in Rivendell and Haldir in Lorien. They needed me.

Now the ring was gone things were starting to get weird.