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Knocking At Heaven's Door	By : kathmco Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 2852 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Title: Knocking At Heaven's Door

Author: Emmess

Rating: NC17

Warnings: Everything I can think of without being overly gross and offensive.

Pairings: Almost every Elf in Arda

Disclaimer: I do not own anything even remotely associated with Tolkien's universe, and actually…very little of anything else.

Summery: Ever wonder what happens to fanfic writers after they die? Would heaven be heaven without Elves and sex? Um…no. No, it wouldn't…Please read and review! AU, Humor.

Chapter One

Welcome to the Great White Way

I died. At least, I think I did. I remember sitting at my computer, feverishly typing out the latest Elf sex scene that my twisted mind had envisioned, when I had felt a really nasty pain travel from my chest to my hand, immobilizing my right arm in agony. The keyboard seemed to rise to my face, and I realized, almost in passing, that it was actually my face falling to meet the keys. The last thing I remember seeing was the mouse's cursor on my computer's screen flashing next to the word 'orgasm.'

It figures that I'd die typing that word, rather than experiencing it.

I had always believed in, or at least hoped for, some type of afterlife. Not being particularly religious, I discounted an afterlife of cherubs and harps - I mean, how boring would eternity be with nothing but fat little angels and chamber music - and leaned more toward the entire going-into-the-light, disembodied, suddenly-know-everything, floating-around-in-some-astral-vortex type of afterlife.

I never expected this. Not that I'm complaining, mind you…it was just a bit of a shock.

I found myself no longer in my study nose-down on my keyboard, but standing outside a pair of tremendous, heavily gilded, intricately scrolled gates. Stereotypical, I know…but, well…there you are.

"Name?" came a voice from somewhere to my left.

Turning my head, I saw an golden-haired male figure, dressed in a white flowing gown, sitting at a small desk, holding a huge quill pen, looking at the pages of a large, thick book. For a moment, I felt sorely disappointed, thinking that I, indeed, faced an eternity of cherubs and harp music.

Damn.

"Name, please," the voice asked again, this time a bit impatiently.

"Um…which one? My first name? My middle name? My last name? My maiden name? My married name? My pen name for G - R rated fics? My pen name for NC17 rated fics? You're going to have to be more specific."

"Oh…it's you. We've heard about you…you and your mouth."

Suddenly, I wondered if this might just be the other place - the one that's supposed to be hot, and not hot in a good way.

He looked down at the pages of his book, marking something down with his quill. Looking back up at me, he chuckled, "Oh, stop looking like you're going to have an accident in your pants - not that you can anymore - this isn't Hell. As acerbic and sarcastic as you were, you also managed to do one or two things right. Just one or two, mind you, but that, evidently, was enough. Welcome to Heaven, please step through the gates, follow the blue line to the reception desk, and have a great afterlife." He dismissed me with a wave of his quill, gesturing to the gigantic gates, which were now open a crack.

"Thanks," I replied, wanting to, but refraining from pointing out his own streak of sarcasm. As I turned to walk through the gates, I caught him tucking a strand of hair behind his ear from the corner of my eye. My mind must have been playing tricks on me, not that I blamed it, after dying and all, but I could have sworn that his ear was pointed. I dispelled the notion quickly, blaming it on the story I had been writing when I died. Evidently I was obsessed with Elves in life, and now I was seeing them in death.

Great. I had to wait until I died to become delusional.

I had to squeeze through the gates, finding them too heavy to move further apart. I thought perhaps that this was someone's poor attempt at simile, poking a little fun at my having squeaked into heaven by just doing one or two things right in my life. Ha, ha…they must be a barrel of laughs up here.

I had thought the guy with the quill had been trying to be witty when he told me to follow the blue line to the reception desk, but sure enough, I looked down at my feet and saw a thick blue line painted on what appeared to be white shag carpeting.

Sighing, I followed the blue line for quite a while. Every thing around me was a bland, uncompromising white, and I couldn't help but think that either whoever created this place was either painfully unimaginative, or they had had a sale on whitewash at whatever passed as Walmart in Heaven.

Eventually, the blue line ended at a large, curved - and, yes, you guessed it - white desk, behind which sat a lovely blonde female, also dressed in - gulp - white.

She looked up at me and smiled, crooking a finger at me to come closer. I did, not really having any choice in the matter.

"Welcome to heaven. Here's your orientation literature, which should answer any questions you have about death, heaven, etc.; your gown, which you should change into as soon as possible, unless you like running around in the nude, in which case have at it; and the keys to your talan."

Nude? I looked down at myself, and realized a couple of things right off the bat. Number one: I was completely nude. Not a stitch on, bare butt naked. Number two: I looked better than I ever had in life, even when I was eighteen and nothing drooped.

Talan? Did she say 'talan?' No…must have been thrown off by the nudity thing.

I took the bundle from her, and she told me that a guide would meet me at the entrance to Heaven Proper. I was told to follow the green line to the entrance.

Wow, blue and green lines…this place was a veritable Crayola crayon box of color.

Thanking the girl, I turned to follow the green line. Again, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something a little odd about the shape of her ear, and again, I put it out of my mind, blaming it this time on the shock of finding out that I had been prancing through the white nothingness in the nude.

I followed the green line to a high (surprise) white stone wall that stretched out in both directions for as far as I could see. There was a pair of high double doors in the wall, in front of which a figure stood waiting, ostensibly for me. A male figure. And here I was, still naked as the day I'd been born. I wondered if the dead could blush, not having a heartbeat anymore.

I paused for just a moment, throwing the silky gown over my head. No sense in potentially disturbing the natives by continuing to run around naked. The gown was long, brushing the tops of my toes, the sleeves reaching nearly to my fingers. And it was white. By this time, I'm really starting to dislike the color. Or absence of color, depending on your point of view.

As I neared him, his features came into focus. He was tall, broad shouldered, with a narrow waist and hips, and long, muscular legs. Dressed in some type of white tunic and leggings, fair skinned, his long hair a pale, nearly white color, he almost blended in with the wall like a chameleon. All right, I admit it…some things look really good in white.

He turned to look at me as I approached, a lovely, toothy grin spreading on his very handsome face, deepening the twin dimples in his cheeks. His intense gray eyes met mine, and seemed to bore directly into my mind.

"Ah…so it's true what they've been saying…" he said, chuckling a bit. He had a silky-smoky voice - the kind of voice one would think would be illegal in heaven because it fairly dripped with sensuousness.

"What would it be that who is saying about whom?" I asked, not knowing where I found the audacity to raise an eyebrow at him.

"What everyone is saying about you…that you wrote some very naughty stories while you were alive," he replied, shaking on long elegant finger at me.

Uh, oh…my reputation had preceded me.

"Exactly how did you know it was true?" I asked, watching that finger bob up and down in front of my face, and thinking about what I'd like it to be bobbing on.

"Two minutes in heaven and already having lustful thoughts?" he admonished, although his smile grew broader. "I can read your thoughts like an open book."

"Kindly keep your little Amazing Kreskin act to yourself, if you don't mind," I retorted, unsettled that he knew what I had been thinking. "I prefer that my thoughts remain private."

"Sorry…it just happens up here. Don't be embarrassed…want to know what I was thinking?"

"No."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do…"

"Stop reading my mind!" I yelled, realizing that that was how he knew that I really did want to know what he was thinking.

"I was thinking…"

I held my fingers in my ears and began to sing "Born To Be Wild."

Loudly, and badly off key.

He shut up quickly, his mouth closing with an audible snap. Taking my fingers out of my ears, he begged me to stop, promising not to read my mind anymore.

"I'm to be your escort to your new home," he explained, once he was certain that I would cease my unholy caterwauling. "My name is Rumil."

"Pardon me? I'm sorry, I must have stuck my fingers a bit too far in my ears before, because I could have sworn you just said that your name was Rumil."

"It is Rumil. Are you alright?"

I wondered if the dead could faint.
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Knocking At Heaven's Door