More crackiness during the Dagor Dagorath! It's a series now, by both me and Duilin. And yes, we're quite sure we're insane. Enjoy!

Húrin watched in amusement as Morgoth fell to his knees in pain from Morwen kneeing him in the groin. He shot a cheeky grin at his wife who was just now returning to his side, smirking.

"I knew there was a reason I loved you," he said jokingly. She raised her eyebrows.

"The fact I'd make you regret it if you didn't?" she asked, teasing back.

"Yep," he promptly replied, kissing her. She giggled as they broke apart.

"Maybe you should pay less attention to the amusing spectacle Morgoth is making of himself," she began.

"You mean the spectacle you created," Húrin interjected. She shot him a look.

"And pay more attention to what your daughter is doing," she finished.

Húrin turned his head so fast he thought he suffered whiplash. There was his little girl, whom he had never even met in life, talking to an elf. Instantly going into overprotective-daddy-mode, another thing he regretted not being able to do in life, walked over to them. They were chatting, and looking pretty dang cosy.

"Excuse me," he said in his best I-can-make-you-pay-if-you-cross-me voice. "What exactly are your intentions towards my daughter."

"Daddy!" Niënor complained. The elf met his gaze squarely.

"I'm fairly certain I'm in love with her," he said boldly. Well, no coward this one.

"Just keep in mind that if you break her heart, I will personally cut you up into tiny little pieces, feed you my dogs, then follow your fëa to Mandos and subject you the Twilight movies and Pippin's endless singing." Incredibly, the elf grinned.

"I would expect nothing less," he said. "I knew your nephew fairly well." Ah, so he was from Gondolin. Húrin nodded, the backed off slightly, and Niënor stared adoringly at the elf.

Túrin had finished speaking with Finduilas, and came over, a challenging look in his gaze. He got fairly close to the elf, ignoring his sister's scowl.

"I killed Glaurung," he said. The elf just raised an eyebrow.

"I killed Gothmog," he replied. Húrin mentally raised an eyebrow. So this was Ecthelion, was it?"

"And I defeated Sauron," a hobbit walking by said, looking at the mortal and elf with a are-you-really-that-pathetic look. "What's your point?"

Ecthelion and Túrin's gaze met in a silent agreement to never mention this again. Their hopes were dashed when clear laughter rang out. Húrin turned sharply again, wondering just how much whiplash he was going to get.

There was his daughter Lalaith with yet another elf, though this one had golden hair. Ecthelion gave him a look.

"Oh?" he asked. "And who was it who warned me just how much trouble this family could be?" The other elf shrugged.

"I killed a Balrog too, I figured if you could risk it, so could I," Glorfindel laughed. "Besides, I actually saved Eärendil when I killed my Balrog, so in a way, I was directly involved in Morgoth's first overthrow. You...you just died, my friend."

"I'll have you know I was saving Tuor at the time!" Ecthelion retorted indignantly.

Glorfindel just laughed. Then he caught sight of something behind Ecthelion and stopped, though amusement was still written on his face.

Every one turned to see what he was looking at, and witnessed the amazing sight of Morgoth Bauglir going utterly pale and trying to hide behind Glaurung as Fëanor and Fingolfin fought through the press to reach him, then with identical evil grins on their faces, sheathed their swords and pulled out spoons.

"Well," commented Túrin. "This should be interesting."