THE VERY SECRET DIARY OF ARWEN UNDOMIEL
Day One:
Broke up with Aragorn today. He would insist on giving
me a clay pipe and a pair of breeches for Valentine's Day
when I specifically requested a nightie. Have sent him away
from Rivendell.
Day Two:
Bored and lonely. Regret having sent Aragorn away. So what if
he wanted me to dress up in a curly wig and hop around on my
knees during intimate moments? Am sure other humans have
equally odd hangups. Wish I could be interested in Elf men,
but ever since debacle with Glorfindel back in Second Age when
he accused me of copying his hairstyle, have given up on my
own kind.
Day Three:
Someone's been trying on my dresses again. They are all
stretched out of shape, especially the purple one.
Day Six:
Legolas got all shirty when I accused him of trying on my
dresses. He says I have impugned his masculinity. What
masculinity?
Day Eleven:
Legolas still sulking. Says other elves making fun of him now
since whole dress-trying-on-incident. Says they no longer take
him seriously as a man. He must have missed it when Daddy
called him "the gayest gay elf that ever nanced down the pike"
at last Council meeting. Or maybe he just didn't understand
it; he's awfully pretty, but not so bright.
Day Thirteen:
Too, too, too bored. Perhaps will leave Rivendell in search of
adventure, or shopping.
Day Fifteen:
Went all the way to the Gap of Rohan only to find there is no
Gap in Rohan. Not even a Banana Republic. False advertising!
Day Seventeen:
Went to Bree. Asked Barliman if had seen Aragorn lately.
Barliman said, "What, that pervy hobbit-fancier?" Told him he
must be thinking of other Aragorn son of Arathorn. He said,
"The 'Still Not King guy, right?' Did not respond; some people
don't deserve my conversation.
Day Eighteen:
Have been following Aragorn for two days now. Have never
really seen hobbits close up before. Suddenly business with
curly wig and prosthetic feet starting to make sense. V.
annoyed. Slow burn.
Day Twenty:
Doesn't he ever wash his hair when I'm not around?
Day Twenty-Four:
Is official. Aragorn a complete pervy hobbit-fancier. Is
obviously into little blue-eyed hobbit Frodo. Sam will kill
him if he tries anything.
Day Twenty-Five:
Cornered Sam while he was out looking for herbs. Explained to
him exactly how was possible to kill human men instantly and
silently using just a fork and a rubber band. Turned him
around, gave him little push in Aragorn's direction... alas no
dice. "But we need him to protect Frooodo, scary elf lady!"
Whingy little hobbit, I've no patience at all.
Day Twenty-Six:
Finally decided to take care of Aragorn myself; was about to
slit his cheating throat when was distracted by howling moans
of Ringbearer. Decided to annoy Aragorn by hobbit-napping
bite-sized hero and taking him for extended pony ride.
Little hobbit really rather adorable, blast him.
Cannot believe am getting all swoony over hobbit. Repeat to
self: "Aloof, unavailable elf princess. Aloof, unavailable elf
princess." Especially cannot believe am getting all swoony
over greenish-looking, half-dead hobbit.
Day Twenty-Seven:
Chased by Ringwraiths. So tedious. Off to Rivendell.
Day Twenty-Nine:
Well, really. Cannot even get near Ringbearer, as Sam is
always there, plus caught Aragorn sneaking around in shrubbery
by hobbits' quarters. Claimed he was looking for shard of
Narsil he had misplaced.
Day Thirty:
Hobbits such a bother. Kitchen staff fussing ‚ all out of
carrots. Bathroom staff fussing ‚ all out of strawberry
scented bath bubbles. Legolas fussing ‚ will not let me go to
Council meeting as then he will not be prettiest. Strain is
obviously getting to Daddy. Asked me yesterday in haggard
manner whether I thought purple suited his complexion. Told
him of course not, he is so obviously an autumn.
Day Thirty-Two:
Spent all day hanging about on bridge looking pretty before
Aragorn happened along. Accused him point-blank of
hobbit-fancying. He told me that Isildur had been a pervy
hobbit-fancier, and he was just trying to build his career in
a similar fashion. Told him: "You are Isildur's heir, not
Isildur himself." To which he replied, "If only you were a bit
shorter, and had bigger feet."
Day Forty:
Spent quite the night with Gimli. Those braids! That axe! I am
smitten. No more hobbits for me, it is dwarves all the way
now. Well, perhaps might just pop by one last time to watch
Sam give Frodo his bath. After all, I didn't filch that
bathroom key out of Aragorn's pocket for nothing.
.
Day One:
Broke up with Aragorn today. He would insist on giving
me a clay pipe and a pair of breeches for Valentine's Day
when I specifically requested a nightie. Have sent him away
from Rivendell.
Day Two:
Bored and lonely. Regret having sent Aragorn away. So what if
he wanted me to dress up in a curly wig and hop around on my
knees during intimate moments? Am sure other humans have
equally odd hangups. Wish I could be interested in Elf men,
but ever since debacle with Glorfindel back in Second Age when
he accused me of copying his hairstyle, have given up on my
own kind.
Day Three:
Someone's been trying on my dresses again. They are all
stretched out of shape, especially the purple one.
Day Six:
Legolas got all shirty when I accused him of trying on my
dresses. He says I have impugned his masculinity. What
masculinity?
Day Eleven:
Legolas still sulking. Says other elves making fun of him now
since whole dress-trying-on-incident. Says they no longer take
him seriously as a man. He must have missed it when Daddy
called him "the gayest gay elf that ever nanced down the pike"
at last Council meeting. Or maybe he just didn't understand
it; he's awfully pretty, but not so bright.
Day Thirteen:
Too, too, too bored. Perhaps will leave Rivendell in search of
adventure, or shopping.
Day Fifteen:
Went all the way to the Gap of Rohan only to find there is no
Gap in Rohan. Not even a Banana Republic. False advertising!
Day Seventeen:
Went to Bree. Asked Barliman if had seen Aragorn lately.
Barliman said, "What, that pervy hobbit-fancier?" Told him he
must be thinking of other Aragorn son of Arathorn. He said,
"The 'Still Not King guy, right?' Did not respond; some people
don't deserve my conversation.
Day Eighteen:
Have been following Aragorn for two days now. Have never
really seen hobbits close up before. Suddenly business with
curly wig and prosthetic feet starting to make sense. V.
annoyed. Slow burn.
Day Twenty:
Doesn't he ever wash his hair when I'm not around?
Day Twenty-Four:
Is official. Aragorn a complete pervy hobbit-fancier. Is
obviously into little blue-eyed hobbit Frodo. Sam will kill
him if he tries anything.
Day Twenty-Five:
Cornered Sam while he was out looking for herbs. Explained to
him exactly how was possible to kill human men instantly and
silently using just a fork and a rubber band. Turned him
around, gave him little push in Aragorn's direction... alas no
dice. "But we need him to protect Frooodo, scary elf lady!"
Whingy little hobbit, I've no patience at all.
Day Twenty-Six:
Finally decided to take care of Aragorn myself; was about to
slit his cheating throat when was distracted by howling moans
of Ringbearer. Decided to annoy Aragorn by hobbit-napping
bite-sized hero and taking him for extended pony ride.
Little hobbit really rather adorable, blast him.
Cannot believe am getting all swoony over hobbit. Repeat to
self: "Aloof, unavailable elf princess. Aloof, unavailable elf
princess." Especially cannot believe am getting all swoony
over greenish-looking, half-dead hobbit.
Day Twenty-Seven:
Chased by Ringwraiths. So tedious. Off to Rivendell.
Day Twenty-Nine:
Well, really. Cannot even get near Ringbearer, as Sam is
always there, plus caught Aragorn sneaking around in shrubbery
by hobbits' quarters. Claimed he was looking for shard of
Narsil he had misplaced.
Day Thirty:
Hobbits such a bother. Kitchen staff fussing ‚ all out of
carrots. Bathroom staff fussing ‚ all out of strawberry
scented bath bubbles. Legolas fussing ‚ will not let me go to
Council meeting as then he will not be prettiest. Strain is
obviously getting to Daddy. Asked me yesterday in haggard
manner whether I thought purple suited his complexion. Told
him of course not, he is so obviously an autumn.
Day Thirty-Two:
Spent all day hanging about on bridge looking pretty before
Aragorn happened along. Accused him point-blank of
hobbit-fancying. He told me that Isildur had been a pervy
hobbit-fancier, and he was just trying to build his career in
a similar fashion. Told him: "You are Isildur's heir, not
Isildur himself." To which he replied, "If only you were a bit
shorter, and had bigger feet."
Day Forty:
Spent quite the night with Gimli. Those braids! That axe! I am
smitten. No more hobbits for me, it is dwarves all the way
now. Well, perhaps might just pop by one last time to watch
Sam give Frodo his bath. After all, I didn't filch that
bathroom key out of Aragorn's pocket for nothing.
.
