All That Glitters
A LOTR/DC Universe Crossover
By
Ava Telcontar
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I amar prestar aen. The world has changed.
Han mathon ne nen. I feel it in the waters.
Han mathon ne chae. I feel it in the earth.
A hon noston ned gwilith. I smell it in the air.
Much that once was is lost. For none now live who remember it.
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Morgoth Bauglir was loosed of his chains. The sound of his triumphant laughter thundered in Valinor, echoed in the Halls of Mandos, the vibrations resonating throughout the width and breadth of creation.
The Black Foe of the World as his twin brother Manwë had named him was free. As troubling as this truth was there were others just as disquieting.
It was too early. It was not yet time for Dagor Dagorath, the last battle.
For eons Morgoth existed in the Void. He had been bound by the chain Angainor and dragged to stand before his brothers and sisters, the Valar had dared passed judgment upon him. They took the Silmarils from him and beat his iron crown into an iron collar.
They would all pay in full.
They fitted him with the collar and cast him out of the World. But, oh. Not entirely. They couldn't be rid of him that easily. He cast his shadow on Eldar and Hildor infecting them with his desire towards evil.
The Void, called by some the Howling or the Bleed was infinite, containing no temporal or spatial dimensions. It was far from being the hell some believe it to be. You bring your own hell within. Some have called it the sleeping mind of creation.
In the beginning of his sentence he tumbled in the vastness and found to his shock that it was far from empty.
The image of a Hand with glowing words spun out of a nebula arrested his attention. It was something to be avoided. It reminded him of this thrice cursed father.
...
To his bewilderment he once caught a glimpse of an old man and a boy. The old man tried to kill the boy only to be interrupted by something that resembled a pale girl who looked right at him and smiled wryly. Somehow, he knew her.
...
In the vastness Morgoth became mad.
...
Morgoth, though chained, though much had been taken away, was still of the Valor and so he sought an escape.
He looked for cracks in the fabric of reality that he could use. Eru was neglectful it would seem.
He tried many times.
Here is one attempt.
Time was a palatable thing. It existed as a liquid glowing golden ribbon— with a diversity of weaknesses. He sought to warp the patterns and find a way back in.
He was unprepared for the storm.
...
"That didn't go too well for you did it?" A voice asked the battered Valor. The voice was juvenile and…amused.
Morgoth's eyes opened. The voice belonged to the younger children; the weak ones born after the morning. It was a pale skinned juvenile male dressed in dark trousers, a red tunic covered by a dark metal chest plate. A sword was strapped to his back. Eyes like knives glinted mischievously at him in the gloom.
Also, the mortal was dead. That was puzzling.
"Ai! Where did you come from?" The Dark Lord wondered.
"Lately, the City of Dis." The boy smiled at him. "Name's Harm. Look, I got a proposition for you." The boy spoke.
Morgoth listened. And laughed out loud with dark elation.
-----
Ilúvatar was silent.
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Place: The Artic Circle
Two armies faced each other in a bleak wasteland of snow. Pallid ice from frozen shore to frozen shore. The clear shining of stars reflected in the freezing waters till sky and sea were almost indistinguishable, surrounded this barren place. Armadas of warships awaited battle on the deep. And garlands of multihued radiance danced in the air.
"For all that we outnumber them I fear we are outmatched," sighed Elrond Peredhil. The half-elven was garbed in fine armor and cloaked, a sword at his back, Vilya, the Ring of Air, resplendent with renewed power on his finger. He rubbed his hands together. Even for the Eldar the cold was biting. He glanced ruefully at the insubstantial tower of shadows that stood in the heart of the adversary's troops.
"A third of the Elder Children of Ilúvatar fallen and turned to the service of the Enemy…" Mithrandir also called Gandalf, his robes white enough to blend into the surroundings, paused as recognition lit up his eyes.
"Somehow, that sounds familiar." He leaned on his staff. "Come now. Just because they are armed with dark devices, fell weaponry, and even darker arts not to mention fallen Maiar and Houseless Spirits there is no reason to be so melancholy."
Elrond smiled faintly, "Is that all. I see I have been worried all this time for nothing.
They surveyed the armies of the faithful Eldar, the flashes of power that indicated all the Maiar called to battle. Even so it seemed to small a force to go against such a great evil.
Still. Life and hope walk the path together.
Gandalf shrugged, "Even Morgoth must succumb to the law. He may not claim Arda for his own until His armies have conquered the World of Men." He nodded towards structure where the translucent image of the fallen Ainur and self-styled Master of the Fates of Arda looked down with eyes colder then the future battleground. The collar forged from his crown still around his neck. His shadow lengthening and lessening in light of stars and moon yearning to cover the world in darkness and despair.
"I find that does not comfort me overmuch," Elrond returned.
…
Legolas missed the Fellowship. The bonds he had built with that diverse assembly had changed his endless life in ways he could never fully explain. The nine of them together (with a little help) had accomplished the impossible. Now, only two of the nine remained.
He gazed at the legions of fallen. This was worse then the final War of the Ring. It wasn't orcs he faced. It was elves. His own people. Some were his own kin. It was almost too much to bear.
The War of the Ring had been the most terrifying experience of his entire life. This…this was beyond words.
His father's attention for the moment being diverted elsewhere he wandered over to the Peredhil twins.
"Mae govannen," Legolas greeted his old friends.
Elladan nodded briefly.
"Mára aurë," Elrohir said curtly and returned to subtly watching his father and the Istari who appeared deep in council.
The Silvan princes' eyes narrowed in suspiciously. Of the three of them Legolas was the brusque one. "What do you know?"
"Legolas, whatever do you mean?" queried Elladan his voice a mere echo of his usual mischievous tone.
"Your very manner hints at secrets," accused Legolas.
Elder twin exchanged a wordless communication with younger twin. Sometimes Legolas wondered if they had inherited any of their formidable grandmother's propensities towards mind speech. Or if this most annoying of habits was merely that special bond twins were purported to possess.
Having been present at various pranks where the two would coordinate their activities while being miles apart suggested the former.
"Radagast the Brown has gone to fetch the current heir," Elrohir murmured.
"Or to warn. I'm just overheard a bit of the conversations content." Elladan smiled broadly. "I admit it I was eavesdropping. I just hope Mithrandir doesn't turn me into something…unnatural."
Elrohir rolled his eyes, "For Radagast's sake it had better have been to fetch. And while he's at it he should have with him a list of all of Arwen and Estel's descendants and their whereabouts."
Legolas ignored them. Aragorn's heir….well that brought some interesting possibilities, "Who is he? The heir?"
"Her," Elladan expounded. "A Ruling Queen. The throne no longer goes to the eldest male of the royal line."
"The throne only went exclusively to the eldest male in Gondor. They were much more sensible in Arnor." Said Elrohir with a disdainful snort.
Elladan ignored his twin. "Instead, it falls to the scion with the truest spirit and noblest heart."
Legolas considered this information carefully. "What brought on such a change in the line of succession?"
Elrohir shrugged, "After so many centuries the family branched out so much that the blood grew thin and new criteria had to be drawn upon." He paused as movement in the distance caught his eye. "Ai! Look. Radagast comes."
----
Radagast pulled his dog pulled sleigh to a stop in front of a grim eyed elf lord and a white bearded wizard. Though, age was of course relative among Istari, Gandalf had always seen his brown counterpart as something in the way of a younger brother. The bright lime and pink mittens complete with pompoms Radagast wore caused a smile of amusement to lighten Gandalf's features.
He wore the face and form of a fit and handsome man of seventy. It didn't surprise Gandalf that he was clean shaven. His colleague had always hated the beard that was considered trendy for wizards. Fashion it seemed had changed as well; dark blue trousers and a cream knitted tunic under a russet garment that only vaguely resembled a robe.
Radagast said something low to the sled dogs that bared their teeth and were growling at the enemy army. At his voice they calmed and lay in the snow.
Winged things, he noted had began to circle the tower.
"Gîl síla na lû govaded," Elrond greeted the Istari as he disembarked his sled, staff in hand.
"Suilaid," Radagast bowed his head briefly. He ignored Elrond's pointed perusal of the passenger-less sled. Choosing instead to roll his eyes at Gandalf who he could just tell wanted to comment on the mittens.
"You're late," accused Gandalf.
Radagast smiled. "A wizard is never late."
"My youngest daughter made them for me," Radagast said in exasperation at the puckish twinkle in the other wizard's eyes. He shrugged in embarrassment. "My wife said I had to wear them." Or else had been the unspoken but very clear threat.
Elrond blinked in astonishment, "You got married?" An Istari wedding a mortal?
"You didn't invite me to the wedding," Gandalf asked him sadly.
"It's not as if I could deliver a wedding invitation to Valinor." The edges of his mouth turned up. "My lord Elrond, I take it you would like news of the heir?"
Elrond stopped eyeing the empty sleigh meaningfully, "Such news would be welcome."
Radagast made a gesture to a low cliff to the east where pale light lit up the sky announcing the approaching dawn. "She's there."
Elrond peered hungrily at the cliff. He had lost two of his children to the Doom of Men.
He had known from the beginning that he would lose Estel to time as he had lost his brother, Elros. He had grown resigned after sixty four generations to such losses. But, to lose Arwen! To lose his beloved daughter had caused his heart to shatter. He had given in to the sea longing and parted with bitter words for his lost children.
The eons pasted by and he had learned a deeper regret then he had ever known. As Bilbo had once said, 'sin in haste, repent in leisure' the hobbit had known what he spoke of.
"Her name is Ava," Radagast said softly.
"Ava," breathed Elrond.
...
"What are they looking at…?" Elrohir followed the gaze of his father and the two Istari to the western embankment of snow and ice. "Oh."
Legolas who had the foresight to listen in on the conversation between the Half-elven and the wizards answered, "The Ruling Queen. Your great grand niece."
"What is she wearing?" Elladan was the only thing he could think of to say.
…
Elven eyes looked on the west with eyes full of wonder and disbelief. Or, in the case of their opposite number, eyes full of hate and disbelief.
The eyes of an elf are sharper then the average bird of prey and so they could see the distant figure quite clearly.
What they saw was the shapely figure of a daughter of man in the springtime of youth standing in front of a rolling background of fog shimmering in the pre dawn light. For those who could see a star shone on her brow.
She wore formfitting lightweight armor over a black silk bodysuit with matching boots. The armor was a shade of sapphire blue so dark it could almost be mistaken for black. Above this an unfastened blue-black heavy knee length hooded robe of some exotic material that hung like leather and whispered like satin.
As the robe was open they could see a belt of many pockets and attached tools. The glint of silver at her hips and the sides of her boots indicated she bore live steel. Long knives, perhaps? The emblem of Elendil and his heirs, seven white stars and one white tree with the winged crown overhead could be glimpsed on her breastplate.
Most puzzling of all, as she dropped her hood about her shoulders freeing her wild dark auburn locks it became clear that the scion of Gondor and Arnor wore a mask obscuring the upper half of her fair continence. Her eyes were covered by half circles of opaque white glass…no not glass the light hit it wrong to be glass.
Her stance while languid held a suggestion of barely contained violence.
…
"Do you think she can see out of those things?" Elladan said in disbelief.
Elrohir's face was utterly blank with his astonishment. Who was this kin of ours that she would come thusly?
Legolas ignored the twins agitated murmurings. They should remember their brother better. The woodland prince could hear Bilbo's elderly voice on the wind. 'All that is gold does not glitter…'
…
Radagast laughed out loud at the aghast looks on the faces of Elrond and Gandalf. "Not what you were expecting?"
"Not by the remotest chance," Elrond managed his face drained of all color.
The brown wizard smiled, "I promise you this, while she might not be what you may expect, you will find that she is beyond your wildest hope."
"What did you do?" Thundered Gandalf wrathfully into his fellow maiar's mind, his bushy brows scrunched together in anger.
The slim figure made a made a gesture in their general direction.
Radagast seemed to take that as a signal and hit his staff thrice upon the ice. The amber crystal at the top of the staff let off a pulse of light that spun itself into the sky and wrote a glyph onto the sky that pulsed once then and then disappeared.
Gandalf forgot his outrage to stare. He did not know that symbol. "What was that in aid of?"
Radagast shrugged. "I have my marching orders."
…
Ava could be seen to smile pleasantly as she turned and addressed the Dark Tower.
"I have heard you wished to speak to me," Her voice was as sweet as silver bells and as edged as a mithril knife. "At least that's what the minions sent to kidnap me said."
All eyes focused on the mortal child with even greater intensity.
"Are you aware that that could be construed as rude?" The girl asked.
A voice answered. A voice as transcendently beautiful and as horribly corrupt as only a fallen Valor's could be, at the sound of this voice life itself withered just a little.
"Who are you to accuse me thus, pen-neth?"
"I am the descendant of Lúthien Tinúviel and Beren Erchamion who is in your way." She said quietly. Her lips turned up slightly at the corners, "You do remember my ancestors don't you?"
The firmament rumbled with dark and archaic curses. It would seem that the adversary remembered them well.
"You can call me Strider."
…
"I did hear that aright did I not?" Elladan asked alarmed incredulity dripping of his very words. "Did she just mock Morgoth?"
Elrohir shrugged his mind for once a blank, "Did she just claim our brother's name?"
Legolas kept his own council.
…
Elrond could only watch as the pounding in his chest sounded like the heavy falling of a dwarf hammer.
…
"…after my armies subdue the world of man and I enter into Arda I will see you bow to me, child of Lúthien. You will be chained to my throne till I bore of you."
Strider yawned theatrically, "Big guy, you're gonna find that your ambition exceeds your grasp." She paused and considered, "Also, nice villainous monologue; just the right amount of threat and creepy insinuation."
"You dare mock me?" The very air seemed to scream.
Ava shrugged. "I do. I totally dare to mock you. That; however, is not why I'm here. As I understand it you can't do squat until your underlings do all the work and take over the world for you."
Something in her stance reminded him of Beren and the undistilled hate he held in his heart for all creation burned just a little hotter.
"The armies of men will fall!"
"You do not face the armies of men! You only face them if you get past us. And trust me. You won't get past us," Strider said flatly. It wasn't a boast. It was a fact.
"The Elven armies and Maier strength will avail you not. And you came alone."
"Did I? Did I really?" She managed to make her query the most maddening thing ever asked.
Behind her the mist was being pulled rapidly away…suctioned into what appeared to be a strange black silk hat held by a slender feminine hand. The hat and the hand belonged to a beautiful young woman standing a few feet behind Ava.
The hat was flipped onto the women's raven hair. She winked saucily at both armies.
Strider was most defiantly not alone.
Sometime, later it would be said that the light of her being was like that of a new born star…that stood at the forefront of a galaxy of blazing light.
"Look! Up in the sky!"
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Morgoth being a Valor experienced creation by what a mortal would term music. After all did not he and his kin sing creation into being? It was he who created the first discord. And so he perceived Strider and her cohorts as song. Each of the unlikely looking warriors had their own song. Some simple with few cords others were lengthy sonatas.
At first it seemed cacophonous, all wild rhythms and rebellious harmonies that melted into a great symphony. He ground his teeth together in rage. His was the first discord. But this music as wild and rebellious as it was... Was. Not. His.
At the cry of 'Look! Up in the sky!' his eyes fell upon a shield in the shape of a diamond, outlined in red, filled with yellow containing a red S outlined in black on a muscular blue clad chest and a song separated itself from the great opus. It was noble. It was heroic. It was the very soul of truth and justice.
He hated it.
----
Behind Strider and in the air above her they waited. The departing mist had revealed the most dangerous albeit ragtag army the world has ever known.
Dressed in solid primary colors or the darkest of hues, powered by bright magic, strange alchemy or nothing save wit and strength of arms they waited.
They were something new. Something never conceived in Arda's primordial past.
They were waiting
For a word.
Strider took in the nonplussed armies below her and her smile got wider; A smile that bordered on feral.
…
"People call them superheroes," Radagast exclaimed. "They're the ones who dress up in improbable apparel and fight the things no one else can fight." He paused a thoughtful look crossing his features, "It should be noted that they usually only refer to themselves as such with deepest irony."
"Improbable apparel?" croaked Mithrandir. Radagast had always been one understate the situation.
Next to the vast majority of …superheroes, Ava's startling garments looked positively understated in comparison.
…
"Who are they?" Legolas asked. He had, he supposed had speculated on this mortal generations reactions to the past returning. Legolas had assumed that the modern world would be a pale imitation of the past. Without, the elves or the Maiar here to guide the second born that they would…become degenerate. He felt vaguely ashamed at such thoughts. He knew more of men than others of his race.
Gimli had once said the one way man exceeded both the elven or dwarfish peoples were their ability to adapt and change. 'Mark me well pointy ears, where elves may freeze and dwarves turn to stone, man will amend his nature. We do not change so easily.'
"I think the more pressing question is what are they?" Elladan said as dryly.
Elrohir wondered ideally if he were going mad. It would explain a lot.
…
A young elf of no more than eight thousand years that had fallen in with the worst crowd possible was panicking. He had gone against kith and kin for the promise of glory. A golden promise that looked decidedly dim in the light of day. This would be his first war.
What it meant was dimly becoming clear.
Also…
Something occurred to the foot soldier that hadn't occurred to his commander and certainly hadn't occurred to the Dark Lord he'd pledged his service to.
They might lose.
In his panic he, without the word given, pulled an arrow and launched it towards the loyal army.
The shield maiden across from him would have died.
Would being the key word.
As her opposite number drew his bow a red something detached itself from behind Strider and ….before, it could pierce her eye a hand reached out and plucked it from the air.
"How you doin?" the apparition before her wore a red body suit with a yellow lightning emblem on his chest and yellow boots. On the red cowl that obscured most of his face there were little yellow wings. His smile was blinding.
Dimly, she realized he was not in fact speaking elvish. It was also not westeron. The meaning went past her ears directly into her brain.
Which as it happens was this Radagast's little light show had been in aid of. It was easier for two groups of people to work together when they could communicate.
"Hi!" the man in red continued. "I'm the Flash." He paused at the look of complete disbelief. "'Cause ya know…I'm really, really fast."
"Oh," was the distant reply.
He sped over to the foot soldier and cheerfully handed him the arrow.
"No one said go. Now did they?" the Flash asked with a disturbingly friendly grin.
The elf shook his head mutely. As the Flash sped away kicking up flurries of snow he turned to the warrior next to him. "That did happen? Did it not?"
----
Ava rolled her eyes at the fastest man alive as retook his place. She shook her head, and waved a wry hand at the Dark Tower. "You were ranting," she said politely and cradled her chin with one gloved hand, "Do go on."
No one had ever spoken to Morgoth thus. He did not like it.
Nevertheless, he would not allow the mayfly to anger him. He was as cold as the void…this child of Beren and her costumed companions were nothing in the grand scheme of things. It would be a pleasant diversion to crush them entirely.
----
Strider looked to her right and smiled. Two of the ones who flew descended onto the top of a nearby crag.
One was a tall striking man with unearthly cerulean eyes and dark curls…one which fell down the center of his forehead. He wore a blue bodysuit with the 'S' shield red boots, a yellow belt, and a long rippling red cloak. He was magnificent.
"Kal El. The Last Son of Krypton. They call him Superman…and for very good reason," Radagast informed his companions.
On his right stood a woman, a golden crown embossed with stars held back lustrous black waves surrounded a face crafted out of poetry. Her curvaceous figure was covered by… very little; stars below and a golden eagle breastplate. A glowing golden rope was attached to her side and her wrists were covered with silver armbands.
"Diana, Princess of Themyscira; champion of the Amazons and sometime demi-goddess of Truth also, called Wonder Women. You'll see why soon enough," Continued the Brown Istari.
A shadowy figure took his place on Superman's left. This figure was not in bright primary colors; a black scalloped cape with a cowl that covered top half of a well favored face, eyes covered by opaque lenses and pointed…bat ears. Black armor whose only color came from an oval of yellow on the chest plate with a black bat symbol emblazed therein.
"The Batman." Radagast intoned gravely.
"Batman. Just the Batman?" demanded Mithrandir. Looking at the Light of Being of these superheroes was one thing. It was a general blindness that followed. Focusing on just one or in this case three was another thing entirely. Superman, Wonder Woman and even the Batman shone like living silmarils.
Radagast blinked at him. "The Dark Knight is hardly just anything."
…
"Morgoth, formally of the Valar," Wonder Woman addressed the tower. "You are too leave this world while you still can."
"I do not take orders from mortal women."
Diana snorted, "Whatever gave you the impression that I was mortal."
"If you don't remove yourself of your volition," came the gravely voice of the Batman. "We'll remove you." His voice gave the impression that this was etched in stone. A solid fact that nothing could alter.
Superman spoke, "Nobody, can say we didn't give you fair warning."
"All will fall beneath my might."
All could here the Flash's whisper of, "Dude, did he just call himself a fatass?"
Strider sighed.
"The world of men will come to an end."
Strider stood straight as she took note of the change in tone. After, a while you knew when a villain's monologue was coming to a close.
"Night has fallen," Rasped the dark lord.
"'Aure entuluva! Day shall come again!" cried out Elrond echoing Húrin in defiance. And so the two armies clashed.
"Let's go to work!" shouted Strider. She ran forward and jumped off the ledge onto a flying motorcycle and flew into the battle. Her face wore the confident grin of a girl who has the combined might of the World's Finest at her back.
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