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 L O R D  O F   T H E   R I N G S


LOTR Title


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.

Master Listing of Diaries

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