I know I know, this is being updated before the next millennium – what can I say, I was inspired and relaxing – I'm not well.

Notes on this chapter – words in italic are intended to be lifted from Giri's manuscript (unless they're obviously not, like at the end), so if they seem especially bad – they're meant to be. The rest is sort of not meant to be bad.

Phaidra - Glad you're happy with the update! And yes, what scares me the most is I can convincingly write Giri style – at least I know it's the exception to the rule (I HOPE it's the exception . . . )

The Noble Platypus - Yup, that's your official job title (apart from Babysitting Lizzie when overtaken with lust, and providing witty comments when Lizzie is bound by words and cannot. And other assorted stuff) And I'm afraid the Award for Redundancy Award was probably lifted from somewhere else – I'm 99 sure it's not mine, but I can't remember whose it is and I'm so used to using it now – yeah, thanks!

Neko the Ninja - YAY, bonus points! Hehe, lumps have been duly deposited. And look, I DID update soon, a real rarity for me!

Fireblade K'Chona - Been trying out alternatives, will have to see how they work out. And don't worry, Lizzie's tougher than that – she's also my main character so I CAN'T kill her off. As for the PPCer thing – I'm afraid I've already got that covered. See end of chapter. Hehe hehe

Lady Iorny - Demand acknowledged and obeyed

Rylee Smith - Would you look at that, I actually did! Go me!

Micheala90 - Lol, thank you (blushes) I'm glad you're having fun – and to think, this started as a project to kill time between another authors updates . . . Are there rules against funniness? You'll have to prove it (Hunts down the book and removes and eats the relevant pages) And no fangirl armies, please – it will delay the story.

Poolbum - Yay, new reader! I'm afraid I haven't read the books, and the only fact I know about Haldir is he's the elf in the battle scene that didn't actually die in the books even though they saw fit to kill him off in the movie. So I doubt I'll get a cookie. :-( Woe is me.

WAHOO! 200 reviews! Beanie Legolasto's all round!

DISCLAIMER – The academy, and all members of it, are mine. People mentioned in the academy and visitors to the academy are normally somebody else's, but I ask permission first, so I shouldn't get sued (in the legal sense, not the Giri sense). Middle Earth is Tolkien's and although I can't ask his permission, I can bow down in awe at his brilliance, and make a small stand against the vandals who mangle it.

Diary of an Undercover Sue

Chapter 17 - Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it's to Rivendale we go

The journey passed in frosty silence

Now, I'm not one hundred percent sure that Giri purposely intended her metaphor to result in subzero temperatures, but seeing as I'm wearing "a modestly low cut, fine silk gown of palest blue moonshine…" that's been as good as ripped to shreds by the chase I just had to put up with and now lets in every breeze, no matter how slight, I'm putting my money on the fact she somehow knew EXACTLY what she was doing.

Every attempt Legolas made at conversation was made with polite rebuttal.

The first time this happened I almost started talking to him – Platy put a stop to that with a snap of her teeth. But since then I've realised the extent of this Legolas's repartee is "Nice weather" and "Do you come here often" and now it's quite easy to follow the words and ignore him.

For the main part.

Why does he have to look so GOOD?

And how come Giri can spell rebuttal but can't string a sentence more complex than "Aren't I pretty?" together without making a mistake? The mysteries of the suvian mind!

To distract myself from the journey I go over everything I know to help me get through this mission. I have to make it to the end of the story, in a suitable sue-ish fashion, to get my chance at a position on the staff. And I have to do that to keep my job at ISPCE. And I just HAVE to keep my job . . .

I take a deep breath, which sets 2D Legolas off on his mindless pleasantries again. To block him out I go over a conversation I had with Mornil one lunchtime.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"So something puzzles me" I lean back against a tree outside Mornil's hut and look across at him "How come loads of students don't drop out due to "stress"?" I wiggle my fingers in the air to make my point. "I mean, the PPC must get all of the stories, so you think the sues would be dropping like flies"

"Ah but you see, normally the students never encounter the PPC – anytime they get into the story the students are pulled out and told they've completed enough for a judgement to be passed. That girl I told you about was a lapse"

"I don't understand – how do the staff know to pull them out? And why was the girl in your story different" I stroke Legolasto gently along his spine and he rumbles his appreciation.

"There's a viewing screen – I think it's in the portal room. Normally there's a teacher on duty, checking the student's behaving sue-ish enough. In the case of my story" Mornil shivers slightly at the memory "I think the teacher had left the room or something – probably ran out of eye shadow or some other emergency" he adds in a mutter.

"So someone's watching the story most of the time?"

"Yes. Tell you what – if you do succeed with this hare-brained scam to get yourself into a story, I'll come in when I can to check on you."

I grin, suddenly choked – no matter what, there are people in this hell, and out of it, who care about what happens – Liliac, Dafydd, Mornil, Sally, Nicole – and I won't let them down. All I can say is a quiet "Thanks".

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The knowledge that someone is watching me – possibly friend, probably foe – is unsettling. What if Giri's watching? I wouldn't put it past her to convince a teacher to let her in. Well, I'll just have to give her a show worth watching.

But before I can plot and plan I realise we're at "Rivendale". I swap a look with Platy, who immediately starts thumping her head against the saddle. I feel the same.

King Elrond stepped out from the impressive marble entrance of his palace – "He isn't a King and hasn't got a palace, twit" I mutter – and walked down to great the two elves.

Lady Lisathwien Elrond said worriedly "Are you okay?"

"And that, kiddies, is a prime example of why speech marks are a GOOD thing" mutters Platy, as before our eyes Lord Elrond takes on several characteristics of Lisathwien. Red hair really doesn't suit him, and for the curves . . .

I'm saved from answering, perversely, by the words.

Legolas looked at King Elrond in shock "Lisathwien? Not . . ."

"Yes Legolas, this is Lady Lisathwien, Princess of the Zwirth, that noble and mysterious race of elves thought lost to time and all knowledge forgotten, she has travelled many miles on my request to join us at our council and hopefully share some of their secret mysteries with us."

"And breathe" I mutter as he finishes off rattling out that impressively long introduction. I swear he looks just a tinge purple. Of course I could be asking how Legolas recognised my name when by all accounts this mystery race I'm now a pat of is just a little bit secret, but I think I'm learning. And for goodness sake, where the hell did she get Zwirth from? That is SO not Tolkien.

Lisathwien nodded at Elrond "I am fine my Lord, but if it will cause no issue, I will rest a while before your council?"

"Best idea I've heard all day" I whisper to Platy as Elrond nods and Legolas looks wistfully at the retreating back of, rumour had it, the most powerful woman ever to grace the ground of Middle Earth. And, unfortunately for his poor heart, the coldest.

Great. Great great great. Can my life get any worse?

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Deep in the bowels of the PPC headquarters, in response centre # 7219 a console beeped into life.

BEEP

"Shut up"

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

"Please shut up?"

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

"I'm just going to ignore you now"

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! BEEEEEP BEEEEEP BA-BEEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

Cursing in Quenya, a dark cloaked figure levered himself out of his chair. Shooting a look at his partner he muttered "I'll get that shall I?"

No response from the other chair. He sighed and walked over to the console. "Not another..." His voice tailed off as he read the summary. Silently, he flicked over to the Words of the story, and read through that as well. Then he sighed. "Dear Manwe... where in Angamando did they pull that from?" Reading further he scowled, and cursed again.

His partner looked up "Problem?"

"Oh no. No problem. Just a Sue I am going to take GREAT pleasure in killing." Dafydd turned around and walked to the weapon rack. "Get ready Selene – this Sue's going to BURN!"

(A/N) So there you go – things can ALWAYS get worse. So what next? Will I manage another update this century? Hopefully yes.