Dear God, I'm tired. But I don't know if I'll be around much tomorrow--uh, today?--so I should go ahead and give y'all an update on The Shelf. The girls have all been getting along pretty well. Sister Girl bought a huge lot of reject/discount Pancake Meow stuff a while back, so I brought them some pie and they've all been bonding. ("I don't know what's supposed to be wrong with this," said Purple Arwen, eating a forkful of meringue. "Uneven pie crust is still pie crust and pie crust is good. ") Anna and Cross-Dressing Elizabeth have been getting along surprisingly well, actually--I came in the other day and found them polishing various weapons together and trading war stories
("... and then they made me their king"), so that's a relief. And I really want Eowyn to get along with them, and it's not that she doesn't, but... I'm afraid she feels like a third wheel, even though she has just as much in common with Elizabeth as anyone. I mean, they all have fun swordfighting together, don't get me wrong. It's just... Eowyn's been kind of quiet lately. She's finished reading Twilight and has moved on to New Moon, and I'm not sure she's liking it. "Well, I mean, Edward leaves like five pages in and that sucks," she said right off the bat, and I realized only too late that... maybe the whole Edward/Bella/Jacob triangle is not the kind of thing that Eowyn's going to enjoy reading.

And then, in the middle of this, a package came yesterday morning.

I wasn't expecting it at all--the card said it was from blendertest (thank you so much!), so I sat down at the kitchen table and wrestled the FedEx box open and it's... an 11" Helm's Deep Aragorn figure.




I mean, it says "Return of the King" on the box, but I saw those movies three times in the theater each. I know my shit. That's a Helm's Deep Aragorn right there. And you know what? He's pretty awesome. No, stubble does not translate well to plastic, but this is a simple constant of doll collecting, so I am not the least bit fazed by that: he's a hell of a lot better looking than Fugagorn, the Fug of Men. I mean, no, he doesn't have a roll of felt or royal longjohns like the Fugster or anything, but he doesn't scare the children, either.

Galadriel glides forward. "Welcome to The Shelf, grandson-in-law," she says. "I'll let the other Aragorn know you're here."

Helm's Deep Aragorn bows his head over his folded hands or whatever elfy shit it is that they do, I don't know. Nobody but Gladdy has any manners around here anyway.

"Why are there two of him?"

"It's a long... long story."

"Well, well, well," says Purple Arwen, sashaying over. "Merry Christmas to me."

"I have traveled by air and by land, over many delivery routes, to reach your side again, fair Evenstar," he says. "You have my sword."

"Well, not yet, but I'm going to."

OH MY GOD! GET A ROOM, YOU GUYS, SERIOUSLY!

I guess this means she's dumping Fugagorn on White Arwen, then? He doesn't seem terribly broken up over this, I'll tell you that much.

"Dude, what took you so long?" he says, struggling to sit upright--he's slumped over in the corner being nursed by White Arwen at the moment. "I'm dying over here!"

Helm's Deep Aragorn kind of looks over his shoulder at Fugagorn with this puzzled expression as Purple Arwen's dragging him away and you can tell he wants to know what happened to Fugagorn but on the other hand, he's kind of afraid to ask.

"Hey, he's got a sword and a knife."

"We can grab those once the two of them go off somewhere."

"He won't miss them?"

"He won't remember his own name by tomorrow morning."

And there's Eowyn's standing to the side with her arms folded, leaning against my New Moon hardback (shut up!), watching quietly. I'm not sure why this surprises me. I guess I was expecting more of a catfight? Hell, I was expecting more of a reaction, period--just a couple of weeks ago she was practically dancing at the thought of us getting an Edward, and here's Aragorn (another Aragorn!), and now she's not even scheming to grab his sword. I'm getting really concerned about her here.

"Hey... what's up?" I say, sitting down on the bed. "You can go say hi if you want to, but you don't have to, you know, it's cool either way..."

"I think Arwen's got it covered," she deadpans.

"Well, I mean... I know there was some history there with you guys, so... I didn't know if you were going to try to get back into that, or..."

"I think I'm done with that now."

"Really?"

"Well, I mean... you have to face facts at some point, and... I'm not his Bella," she says pensively. "Well, really, it's more like... oh God, it's like I'm not his Edward. It's like I'm his Jacob. I'm the nice kid he hangs out with while he's waiting for someone sparklier to come back." There's this look of profound horror on her face. Then she says, "I mean--Bella doesn't end up with Jacob, does she?" You'd think there might be hope in her voice, but it's more like--she knows that's not how it's supposed to happen, because she knows Bella would never really get over Edward, and Eowyn's too proud (by metaphorical extension) to take someone else's sloppy seconds.

I shake my head: "No... it turns out pretty much the way you'd think it would. Edward coming back and all."

She almost looks relieved--resigned, maybe? "But... Jacob does end up with someone, right? I mean, they can't go on and on about him being crazy about Bella and then not have someone else show up to help him get over it, right?"

Oh. Oh God.

"He... well, there's..." Oh, God. "I don't want to spoil it for you," is all I'm able to come up with.

I have got to get that girl a Faramir before she finds out about Renesmee and throws herself off a bookshelf or something.


(More from the Secret Life of Dolls.)

Tags: christmas, dolls, lord of the rings, om nom nom, pirates of the caribbean, the secret life of dolls, twilight, van helsing
Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: Alizée, "Lui ou toi"