Two Canons Don't Make a Fanon

Summary: In an attempt to create the über fanon fanfic, Cujo and Dippy "borrow" book canon and movie canon characters from their respective locations. This week, Book Arwen meets Movie Arwen.

Warning: I have a habit of being brutally honest.

The song is not mine, that credit goes to Tom Bombadil… I mean, Tolkien. And the bit from the Lay of Leithian goes to Tolkien as well.

Much thanks to Dippy for allowing me to use her person, which is available for public use on the third Tuesday of every month.

A/N: I do know that Rivendell and Imladris are the same place, but I doubt Movie Arwen would know Imladris if it bit her in the ass. So therefore, it's merely Rivendell when being referred to in Movie-verse. (Even if Elrond called it Imladris at the Council.)


Episode One: Arwen vs. Arwench

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Imladris, Third Age, 2951

"Cujo, how exactly do you plan to capture Arwen?" Dippy asked, pulling leaves from her hair.

Transporting oneself to Middle-earth wasn't easy, and it was made even harder when Cujo decided to track down "the real" Gandalf to help them get there. Sure he was off stalking Bob Dylan, and he wasn't so much Gandalf as he was a middle-aged English teacher, but he had served his purpose well enough.

Besides, a device that could take you to an alternate plane of existence was hard to come by these days. Especially one with so many buttons, as Cujo had so delightedly pointed out.

"How do you think I plan to do it, by crikey?" she replied, gesturing wildly to the burlap sack that she was dragging behind her. Dippy could barely make out the muffled noises coming from inside, but she was almost positive that it sounded like singing… or was that screaming? Perhaps it was best not to ask after all.

The bedraggled duo arrived at the edge of a clearing, hiding themselves behind an enormous white birch. They could see Arwen walking nearby in a blue and silver mantle, just as they had expected.

Cujo, never the silent, intelligent type, felt that this was the perfect opportunity to burst into song:

"Hey! now! Come hoy now! Whither do you wander?

Up, down, near or far, here, there or yonder?"

The Lady of Rivendell spun around at this unwelcome intrusion, hands flying to her ears in an attempt to drown out the fell beast like shrieking coming from somewhere nearby.

"Sharp-ears, Wise-nose, Swish-tail and Bumpkin,

White-socks my little lad, and old Fatty Lumpkin!

Hey! now- Ouchies!"

By this point, Dippy had taken matters into her own hands and thrown her transporter at the oblivious girl crouched next to her. "You know Dippy, this is why we can't have nice things."

"That's what you said when I threw the ferret at you."

"Yeah, but I was drunk, and it was dea-"

"Is someone there? Pedo!" Arwen was standing in the same spot as before, but she had seemed to regain her composure somewhat.

Dippy gave Cujo the "Must Kill Neo" face before returning her attention back to the confused Elf. "It is I, the great and powerful Oz… err, Ilúvatar. And you my child must ignore my ramblings and return to your thoughts."

Arwen had that Balrog in the proverbial headlights look, which Cujo tactfully (a word which here means stupidly) chose to ignore. "I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees!"

The Elf's lips parted slightly as she stumbled backwards. "Eru, is it truly you?"

"Yes, it is I. The One, Father of All, he who brought the Ainur into being."

Cujo looked at Dippy dumbfounded. "Then Melkor is all your fault, you bastard!"

"Who was that!?!" Arwen looked even more confused, if that was actually possible at this point.

Dippy was (for once) at a loss for words. I- err- BOB! That was my manservant… Bob.

"Bob?" Arwen repeated, trying to grasp the strange name.

"Yes, we met over Mai Tais in Hawaii. It's a long boring story, you really don't want to hear about it. So, how are things? Over your mother being defiled by Orcs yet?"

Undómiel's face twisted in anger and Dippy said the only logical thing she could think of, "Release the hounds!"

Instantly grasping what her friend meant, Cujo untied the sack, allowing its occupant to wriggle free.

Dippy took in the captive's rather disheveled, muddy appearance. It was apparent that Cujo had made him that way. (For Elbereth only knows what purpose. ::smarmy grin::)

Looking at her compatriot's dumbstruck face, Cujo couldn't help but smile. "It appears that the Dúnadan is out of the bag, so to speak."

"I'm surprised you left his clothes on."

"Me too."

Aragorn stepped forward, taking in the scene around him. He could see two girls hiding behind a tree, one with a stupid grin on her face, the other merely looking at him with disdain. Dippy turned to Cujo. "He's not doing anything!"

"I know, isn't he cute?"

Ignoring their conversation (particularly the part dealing with hot fudge and a sensual massage), or merely suffering from brain damage after being dragged around for several hours, Aragorn himself didn't even know which, he made his way into the clearing… singing, as all slightly disoriented Rangers were prone to do.

"Ir Ithil ammen Eruchîn

menel-vîr síla díriel

si loth a galadh lasto dîn!

A Hîr Annûn Gilthoniel, le linnon im Tinúviel"

And there she was before him, Lúthien herself.

Aragorn ran towards her rather foppishly crying out, "Tinúviel, Tinúviel!"

"Oye! See the Dúnedainicus Estelius woo the female with his mating call. What do you think Terry? Shall we go capture ourselves a beauty?"

"Cujo, you're on crack."

"And how."

Watching Aragorn and Arwen talk as if they were old friends, or in this case head wound victims, Dippy grabbed the sack and slowly made her way behind them.

"Then we are kin from afar, for I am Arwen Elrond's daughter, and am named also- hepata!"

Sack firmly in place over the Evenstar's head, Cujo and Dippy grabbed Arwen by the feet and started to drag her back towards the Last Homely House.

"Wait, where are you taking her?" Aragorn called out, suddenly pining for the elleth he had only met a few seconds ago.

Cujo and Dippy exchanged knowing looks before answering the confused heir of Isildur. "New Jersey!"

Rivendell, Third Age, 3018

After depositing Book Arwen in an undisclosed location built for such purposes (i.e. relentless torture) the two companions once again found themselves in Middle-earth. They were a little worse for the wear, Elves seemed to kick more than they had expected, and Cujo was grudgingly nursing a black eye. Dippy on the other hand was surprisingly optimistic, but Cujo suspected that it was only because Pippin was somewhere nearby.

Hiding yet again, they watched as Boromir rode past them and dismounted.

"He's supposed to arrive at night!" Cujo hissed between her teeth. This complaint paled in comparison however to the one she spouted next about Legolas riding in on his "cleverly disguised" saddle. (Let's just say some choice words were used involving someone's anatomically incorrect body parts… or rather lack thereof.)

Having three other sisters, Dippy was prone to such incessant whining and was able to ignore the prattling girl seated to her right. "How long are we going to wait before making our move?" Dippy asked as Gimli and Glóin sauntered past them.

"Just until the bridge scene. And thanks to the magic of film, in four minutes and fifty seconds."

Four minutes and forty-nine seconds later (faulty watch explained Cujo) they crept towards the Garden of Twilight where they came upon Aragorn and Arwen.

"Renech i lu i erui govannen?" Arwen was asking him in her faulty Sindarin.

"Nauthannem i ned ol reniannen," he replied with a less constipated tone of voice than that of his Elvish companion.

Dippy and Cujo gagged from their hiding place, silently vowing never to eat veal again.

Sick of cowering behind trees, Dippy stood up and made her way behind Arwen. "Rather narrow bridge, don't you think?"

"Yes, it would be a shame if someone fell off," Cujo answered, stepping out into the open as well.

Arwen quickly broke away from Aragorn's embrace, dropping the Evenstar pendant in the process. They took in Cujo and Dippy's appearance, Aragorn much too confused to speak, and Arwen much too stupid to stay silent.

"Who are you, and why are you dressed like that?" It was a typical un-canon response, not surprising in the least coming from such a pathetic Elf trying to pass herself off as the Evenstar of her people.

And of course, the only logical thing to do was respond with an equally out of place explanation. "What do you mean? These are the clothes I always wear." Dippy was well versed in typical Sue responses, so well in fact that she kept going, even though it was unnecessary. "In fact these shoes cost $900, very expensive, pure Italian leather made from the finest oliphaunt money can buy."

There was a brief moment of restrained silence, followed by a loud grunting noise as Cujo ran at Arwen's knees, causing the Elf to flip over the girl's small frame and land on her back with a very undignified, "Rhach!"

Dippy looked at the unconscious Elf, before binding Arwen's hand with duct tape. Cujo however was being as useless as ever and looking intently at Aragorn. "Elbereth you have huge feet! Rather deceiving, considering how small your-"

Aragorn's mouth dropped open, a horrified expression on his face. "You better be talking about Andúril!"

"Ummm, I was... Of course I was." She treated him to her best "I wasn't talking about how small your "Hobbit" was" face before continuing. "Im meleth le, Aragorn."

That's when he ran. (Cujo seemed to have that effect on people.) She should have listened to Dippy, telling strange men you loved them was not appropriate for casual conversation.

By the time the human was out of sight, Dippy had Arwen all ready for shipment.

New Jersey, 21st Century, 2004

Elves safely tied to folding chairs, Dippy and Cujo felt comfortable enough to begin their survey. A lot of data would have to be collected before they could write the ultimate fanon story. And since they were both rather anal individuals (though not anal in the way that comes to mind when Clay Aiken is mentioned) the story had to be perfect.

Dippy walked past the Arwens several times before starting. "Please finish this sentence. My eye color is … ?"

"Grey," Arwen said confidently.

"Blue," countered less attractive, less intelligent, less important Movie Arwen. "Or are they brown?"

Writing notes on her clipboard, Dippy continued, "My hair color is … ?"

"Black."

"Raven, midnight, turtle…" Dippy wrote Arwench's response down, despite the fact that she knew turtle wasn't a color.

After getting all the basic information recorded, they moved on to the multiple choice questions.

Cujo mumbled something to herself about the best way to cook veal cutlets before beginning. "Would you describe yourself as, A. the most beautiful creature in all of Middle-earth, B. a bloated heroine addict, C. a mopey angst ridden veal, or D. a lemur?"

Book Arwen had a puzzled look on her face and Movie Arwen was smiling to herself as if she knew some secret the others did not. "E. None of the above," responded canon-correct Arwen. Subject A1 displays tremendous amount of modesty, Cujo wrote on her sheet.

Movie Arwen still hadn't wiped the grin off her face as she answered with a very excited, "Oooh! Ooooh, A!"

Subject A2 is delusional.

"Question number two: If my one true love were crowned King of Gondor, I would A. leave for Valinor, B. show up appropriately on 1 Lithe, C. open a fast food franchise named Arwen Burger, or D. play peek-a-boo behind a standard that I stole from a poor blind women outside Minas Tirith?"

Most of the questions continued in this vein, as well as several other tests, the majority dealing with buoyancy and the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow. After several meticulous hours of data collection, Cujo and Dippy had all the information they needed in handy dandy form… format.

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Subject A1

Name: Arwen

Aliases: Undómiel, Evenstar, Lady of Rivendell

Canon: Book

Direct Relations: Elrond (Father), Celebrían (Mother), Elladan (Brother), Elrohir (Brother), Estel (Love Interest)

Conductivity in Solution: results inconclusive

Response to Electroshock: none administered

Special Skills: Sewing, singing, making cute Rangers fall madly in love with her, and catching toads.

Other Comments: My balls are in an iron vice-grip.

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Subject A2

Name: Arwen

Aliases: the Evenstar of her people, the veal, Arwench, Scene Stealing Hussy, the Chick with the Lips

Canon: Movie

Direct Relations: Elrond (Father), Aragorn (Love Slave)

Conductivity in Solution: yes

Response to Electroshock: excessive twitching

Special Skills: Rescuing Hobbits, hide-and-seek, moping, and licking toads.

Other Comments: Subject is easily amused by shiny objects.

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"May I go home now?" Book Arwen politely asked Dippy.

"Yes Undómiel, I believe we're done with you." She looked at Cujo, who grabbed her transporter. Taking Arwen by the hand, Cujo punched in the appropriate password (My Precious) to access the device and set the proper coordinates. A hole opened beneath their feet and they were gone, leaving Dippy and Movie Arwen alone.

"What about me? When do I get to go home?"

Dippy turned to Arwen, an evil smirk on her face. "I don't know yet Dorothy, perhaps you're still needed."

Cujo had horrible timing, this moment being no exception. "You didn't bury her body without me, did- Oh, hi Arwen!" she squeaked seeing the Elf crouched in the corner. "I'll get the shovels," she whispered to Dippy while backing out of the room.

"Shovels, what shovels!?!"

"She didn't say shovels, she said… muzzles."

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Clash of the Canons

A Meticulously Fanon Fanfic by: Cujo Queen of the Desert and Grotesque Rose

Arwen rode her cow Liv beside the Nimrodel while simultaneously sewing a pair of booties for Aragorn and singing "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" in flawless Sindarin. Her sword rested at her hip, ready to rescue any Hobbits she found being molested by Ringwraiths or other characters of an unsavory nature. Particularly pirates and sailors.

Tucking a loose strand of black hair behind her pointed ear, her blue eyes searched the landscape for any sign of life. Liv could only provide her with so much comfort, none of it sexual, making Arwen's situation even more difficult. If she couldn't find someone to talk to, she was liable to do something drastic, like re-elect Nixon for another term. It was when this idea entered her mind that she saw someone riding toward her from the direction of Lórien.

"Ah, the Prince of Mirkwood," Arwen thought to herself. And with that she urged Liv forward.

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"We're going to be flamed beyond belief," Cujo commented, reading over what they had written so far.

"Yes, but it's the ending that's important."

"Speaking of which, whatever happened to Arwen? When I came back with the shovels, she was gone."

Dippy smiled to herself. "I'm sure that in time her death will be a mystery… even to me."

Cujo laughed nervously, making a mental note to hide any sharp objects that were within Dippy's reach. (Especially screwdrivers.)


Coming Soon, Episode Two: Legolas vs. Nancy

So, shall I continue this? What say you?