Title: Personal A-muse-ments 1

Rating: PG

Parts: one

Fandom: lotr

Disclaimer; tolkein owns em, I just warp them

Summary: someone isn't too happy with the way I divide my time...

            I came to from my stupor, my glazed eyes clearing from where they had

been staring at the open document. "What?" I muttered, rolling my eyes at

the unamused clearing of a throat behind me. I knew for a fact that mom

was with my sister downstairs doing homework, and my father was at a

meeting, and the cat very rarely got that aggitated with me, so it could

be only one thing...

            "Another one of you? I swear, you would think that you guys had a life,"

I muttered, glancing over my shoulder to view a very pissed off Haldir,

looking as glorious as he possibly could. I spent a few silent seconds

appraising him before responding in a way to let him know exactly what I

was feeling. "Oh, it's you." Or maybe not...

            Apparently he'd never had quite such an apathetic reaction and raised a

confused eyebrow. "I thought I was your favorite-"

            "You are, imagine how I greeted the other ones," I snorted, not taking my

eyes from the screen. "Look what is this about...I'm kind of busy here," I

sighed and his eyes narrowed.

            "I'm here to deal with your recent behavior, given the way you've treated

all your other muses," he growled, and I smirked.

            "You've been reduced to being a muse for hormonal fanfic writers?

Geez...finally someone who's life sucks more than mine," I snickered and

he huffed.

            "It wouldn't be if you let me do my job..."

            "I can't help it if everyone interrupts me while I'm busy...besides, I'm

writing," I said in my defense, sprawling in my folding chair.

            "It would go a lot faster if you would have let Legolas stay in the room

with you while you were writing instead of making him sit in the tree by

your window," he growled and I shrugged.

            "He was putting the moves on me..."

            "You're supposed to LET him," the elf sighed as if this was the most

fundamental part of writing in the world and that I was completely stupid

for not realizing this before now.

            "Actually it's more fun making him sit outside and be terrorized by the

neighbor's dog," I chortled and he glowered.

            "And Celeborn and Elrond-":

            "In my defense that one wasn't my fault...It was their stupid idea to

sneak in by falling down the chimney...They didn't stop and think that

because it's winter maybe we would have a fire going!"

            "Do you know how long it's going to take to have their robes remade?"

            "I figured on that, and if they drop by again, make sure they wear

something like vinyl pants this time...that would really inspire me," I

laughed, flashing the blond god a shit-eating grin as he continued to look

unamused.

            "You maced Aragorn with pepper spray!!!"

            "Hey, it's not my fault that he came tapping on my window at two

am...besides, he looks like a stalker-"

            "He's a Ranger, he's supposed to look that way!!"

            "Still looks like a stalker to me," I replied, leisurely clicking my way

through a solitaire game.

            "At any rate, I've come to present you with this," he muttered, handing

me a scroll with a florish of his hand. Raising an eyebrow, I carefully

unrolled it and gave him a quizzical glance.

            "I can't read this," I complained

            "If you were doing your job as a fanfic reader you'd know elvish by now,"

he growled, yanking it from my hand. "That's the point! This is a petition

for you to quit wasting time with other things and let us help instruct

you in the ways of writing....as you can see it's signed by all of the

muses you've harrassed thus far," he added, pointing to the bottom.

            "Cute...and I could do this by..."

            "For starters, get rid of this...this junk," he growled, nodding to my

Ewan McGregor standup, my Stitch doll, and basically everything in my

room, "and replace it with proper items such as swords, pictures from a

few movies suggested in the petition and-"

            "And anything else that's exclusively Lord of the Rings, I've got it," I

sighed. "Anything else?"

            "Why on earth are these volumes being used as a doorstop?" he muttered,

picking up The Hobbit and Return of the King.

            "They were handy..." I said, shrugging lamely.

            "Then why is this...piece of...writing, here on your bedside table?" he

enquired, picking up my copy of the autobiography of Gene Simmons.

            "Research...I...well, he's a very successful person...and I find his

music entertaining...and...well, he does have like a seven inch tongue," I

sputtered, laughing outright at the pained look on his face. "Anything

else that I can do to be of service?" I asked, immediately regretting it

by the glitter in his eyes.

            "You can come with me and make things up to the muses you've already

snubbed," he purred, moving much quicker than I gave him credit for.

Steeling myself, I put on my most seductive smile and jumped up, meeting

him halfway.

            "So, you mean in the name of research I should just come with you and let

you have your wicked way with me," I tsked, twirling an incredibly soft

lock of blond hair round a finger. He relaxed immediately and grinned

ferally.

            "Of course...we can get everything straightened out and get you back to

working order," he assured me and I nodded.

            "So basically I just give up everything I have an interest in and let you

guide me how you see fit...all in the name of good writing, of course," I

purred, pressing my hands against his chest and walking him backwards,

letting one hand slide down his front and rest on his hip. He purred deep

in his chest and nodded.

            "So really...." I went on, pressing him down to sit on the edge of my

bed, leaning in until my mouth was right by his ear, "you just want to

give into your male urges and figure using the work of Tolkein and the

publicity of the movies and female hormones is as good a way as any!!!" I

hissed, plucking up my plush llama and nailing him right over the head

with it.

            "What!?" he gasped through is mouth full of llama hair and I rolled my

eyes.

            "You know, if you guys had come actually trying to be nice and help me

write my fic by giving me details on things I haven't read yet or

histories of the stories, that I would accept...instead I have to get it

myself from caring people on the lists....if you would have come hoping to

soothe my nerves with all the anxieties I have about writing this fandom,

and with male elves in general, I would have willingly let you in...but

no," I hissed, glaring at his completely confused expression, "instead I

have a bunch of fictional characters who are out of work trying to get me

into bed with them..."

            He gave a timid shrug and I raised an eyebrow at his out of character

behaviour. "It's worked every other time," he admitted and I growled.

            "Well that's just lovely...so I'm not even a person but a target and a

number, thank you very much for that information," I snarled, throwing

another stuffed animal at him, smirking as he dodged it, and in doing so

slammed his head against the wall.

            "Well it's not just that...we want to make sure you have enough

information and personal experience for your story...want to make sure

that Molly doesn't turn into a mary sue-"

            "AMELIA...her name is AMELIA...did you even read what I've written,

Haldir, or did you just assume because it had an NC-17 rating and was het

that I'd put out?!" I groaned in disgust when his cheeks colored slightly.

"You men are all alike..."

            "You're classifying elves in the same category as MEN?!" he spat,

apparently most offended.

            "Yup," I muttered, slipping back into my chair and firing up the word

processing program. "Maybe I'll work on a little Ewan fic..."

            "What about your Legolas story??" he demanded.

            "Oh, I'm tired of that...being so disillusioned as to the ways of elves

and all...pity, you were going to get a good part later on, too..."

            "What can I do to make you return to it?" he asked warily. At that I

turned to face him, grinning evily.

            "Beg."

            "WHAT?"

            "You heard me...beg..."

            "I have never begged in my entire life and most certainly don't plan to-"

he paused dead in his tracks as I opened the window and dangled the disk

over the sill, raising an eyebrow. "Please?" he asked through gritted

teeth.

            "Maybe...though it would help if you were on your knees," I suggested and

he gave me a look of utter fury. I had to hand it to Tolkein, his

characters were fun...

            His face turning scarlet, he carefully got down on his knees, and I

hurridely pushed out any obscene thoughs that came to mind. "Please work

on the Lord of the Rings fandom," he muttered.

            "Don't think I can't see your hand reaching for that sword...don't even

think about it...Now, what was that, I could barely here you-"

            "PLEASE WORK ON THE FANDOM!!!" he roared and I grinned.

            "If you insist," I laughed, bringing in my hand and starting a new

document.

            "What about your story?"

            "Oh, you've just inspired a new one...I think I'll call it 'The Day

Haldir was Raped by Orcs,'"

            "WRITE SOMETHING NICE!!!!" he snarled and I shrugged, flexing my fingers.

            "Oh all right...." I sighed, typing quickly. 'One day Arewn was out in

the meadow adjoining her forest home, idley picking wildflowers in her

long gauzy white gown.'

            "I meant write something nice about ME!!!" he snapped and I shrugged.

            "Picky, aren't we..." 'One day Haldir was out in the meadow adjoining his

forest home, idley picking wildflowers in his long gauzy white gown.'

            "YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!?!?!?"

            "Do I? Do I really?" I drawled and he shot me a look that said that I had

better check in my mailbox for rattlesnakes for the next week. "Will you

be a good muse?"

            "Yes," he muttered, glaring at the floor.

            "And help me with the story?"

            "I suppose."

            "And tell the others to not drop by randomly unless they're to help me

with my writing?"

            "Alright, alright."

            "No more petitions with the understanding that I'm trying to learn my way

in this fandom as quickly as I can?"

            He grunted what I took to be an affirmative.

            "And stop trying to seduce me?"

            "You can't expect us to go against our nature-"

            "Close enough, for now I suppose," I sighed, opening the Tradition

folder. "Okay, I'm writing...don't let the door hit your lovely elf ass on

the way out," I chuckled.

            "You're going to pay for this," he growled, his mouth right by my ear

before he turned and stalked from the room.

            Sighing to myself, I maximized Tradition once more, realizing that Lord

of the Rings was definitely a much more violent fandom than any others I'd

written for so far.

Though it was a hell of a lot more entertaining...