Title: Every (Fan)Girl's Dream
Rating: Overall: NC-17.
Disclaimers: Not true. . .blah, blah, blah. Tolkien's characters are his own, I just get them dirty.
Summary: A girl gets transported to Middle Earth. Yep.
Archive: Gay Shagging Cats.
A/N: Blatant Mary Sue. Horribly written. The only reasons the het seks isn't disgusting are: 1) I'm the OFC. 2) It's humour.
A/N 2: My apologies to Belinda for making mention of her fic. It's just that it's one of my absolute favourite Aragolas fics in the entire world. I love it. I've read it more times than I can say without embarrassing myself.
Part One: Getting There.
Sonja lay sprawled across her bed reading The Question by Belinda on her laptop. Seven Nation Army by White Stripes was playing on the radio. She was just about to reach into the nightstand for her green dildo and anal beads when there was a knock at the bedroom door.
"Going clubbing," her housemate said, opening the door. "Wanna come?"
I was about to, you stupid cunt.
"No," Sonja answered. "I think I'll stay in. Liam may ring, and I still haven't gotten service back on my mobile." She'd just come home from a long holiday overseas and a three-day fuckfest in Glasgow.
"Fine. Suit yourself." The housemate shut the door behind her when she left.
About bloody time.
Sonja turned back to the story and began to imagine a scene in which she was fucking Legolas with a huge vibrating strap-on while Aragorn was sucking him off. Definitely time to reach into the night stand.
Between the beads and the dildo, Sonja was having the most intense orgasm of her life. It was at the exact moment of climax that a bright white light flashed before Sonja's eyes.
Part Two: Sonja From England.
Sonja awoke to find herself in a large, light-filled room. There was a person sitting in a chair to the left of the bed. She looked down at herself and realised she was wearing a gauzy white night gown. Her own clothing did not appear to be in the room.
"Where the bloody hell am I?" Sonja asked the person.
"You aren't in 'bloody hell,' you're in Rivendell. Imladris. In the Last Homely House, to be precise. And I'm Lord Elrond."
"Right, and I'm the Queen Mum." Sonja decided this was a dream. A strange dream brought on by reading too much slash.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty," Elrond said as he rose from his chair and bowed before the bed. "I was not aware."
Sonja nearly pissed herself laughing. "I'm not really the Queen Mum, you twat. It's an expression. Now, if you'll leave me be so I can pinch myse-"
"Twat?" Elrond had a puzzled look on his face. "Your language is strange to me."
"Oh, for fuck's sake. Okay, I'll play along. I'm in Rivendell and you're Lord Elrond Half-Elven."
"I still do not know your name, or from whence you've come."
"Right. Where are my manners? I'm Sonja. Sonja from England." Seeing yet another confused expression on Elrond's face, Sonja explained, "England is an island nation in the EU. It is part of the United Kingdom of Great Britain, which includes Scotland and Northern Ireland. And some other places, but I can't be arsed." This explanation didn't seem to help. "Nevermind. Suffice to say that I am not from Middle Earth."
"I see. I have a meeting to attend at present. There is a matter of great importance that needs to be resolved." Then, after thinking a moment, Elrond continued. "Perhaps you should join me."
To be continued . . .
Can you spot the mistake? The answer will appear in the next instalment.