A/N: Because there had to be a half-dragon Sue.

The Game of the Gods, 4

"You can't defeat this one!" Morgoth was gloating.

Varda yawned. It was the 30,000th time he'd said something like that in the last Valian Year. "Shall we begin?" she asked, and looked at the piece Morgoth had picked up. It was colored shimmering ivory and silver, and had wings on its back. Varda raised her eyebrows. "And what is this?"

"It is best to let the Sue tell her own story," said Morgoth smugly, wincing as a blister on his hand popped. He'd gone to box with a Balrog after his last game with Varda, thinking it might relieve his feelings. "But she's part dragon."

"Really."

"And going to redeem herself by spreading good in Middle-earth."

"Really."

Morgoth grinned proudly. Varda was being unusually silent, and the stars weren't flashing. That had to mean she couldn't do anything about it. "That's right. She'll be flying south from the mountains where the dragons lair."

Varda began to smile.

Morgoth glared at her, and then willed the Sue into life.

------

Xacanythia lay on the ledge outside her cave, wearily looking to the north. She had spent long Ages there, spreading fire and ruin, taking the treasure of the dwarves, and devouring those who opposed her.

But, she had to admit, she had grown bored.

She yawned and stood up. She was a slender, pale Elvish woman to the eye, though her coloring was exotic- bright silver hair with streaks of white in it, and bright silver eyes. It was only when she turned and looked at someone that they realized here was a person of immense age. Her eyes shone and sparkled with that age, rich and thick with light. And they should. Xacanythia had been born of a union between an Elf and a dragon, long ago when the dragons had not yielded to evil and could still assume the forms of Elves. She could look like either, but for a long time she had preferred this two-legged form, with wings on her back, when she was not actually ravaging.

And for a long time, she had felt that something was wrong.

"I could do so much good," Xacanythia muttered, looking to the south. She lived in the wild, lonely northern ranges of Middle-earth, where the dwarves had once dwelt and then fled from her wrath. She hadn't seen another dragon in years, and sometimes it felt as if she had concentrated all their evil into herself. "I could rescue Elven cities from destruction. I could restore treasure of the hoards of those dwarves that still remain. I could fly human girls to their heart's desire."

But, as it did every time, the ambition flickered out in her hungry heart, and Xacanythia retreated inward to her hoard and slept.

*******

That night, though, she had a dream that rekindled her ambition. She dreamed of a small group of smaller creatures setting out from a green land. Some of them Xacanythia recognized; she had chased and eaten enough dwarves in her time. But there was an old man, heavy with magic, who traveled with them, and a smaller creature that had a glow of destiny around him.

Xacanythia could hear an immense voice speaking to her in her dreams, telling her what she must do. The small creature would soon find a treasure that would become too great for him to bear, unless she went south and helped him. And if the treasure overcame him, then all of Middle-earth would perish.

"What is his name?" Xacanythia asked in the dream, and received the answer.

"Bilbo. He will come at last to the great forest Mirkwood, in the south. Do you know it?"

"I know it," Xacanythia breathed, and felt the ambition grow in her heart.

*******

The next day, Xacanythia gazed upon her hoard for the last time, and then left it free to the wind and the rain. Whoever wanted it could take it. She was going to find better treasures: love, and friendship, and respect.

She stood on the ledge outside her lair, and transformed. In seconds, a silvery-white dragon with breath of purest light stood where the elf-maiden had been. Xacanythia lashed her tail and felt a sweet shiver travel through her. She was the only one of her kind in Middle-earth. The fact had always torn at her. Now she felt her own uniqueness more clearly. Only she could help Bilbo.

She sprang into the air, turned south, and flew. The distance was as nothing to the vast wings of a dragon, and soon she saw the mountains thinning out beneath her. For some time, she flew only over level land.

Then she saw one more mountain ahead of her. Xacanythia loosed a blast of light in celebration. She could rest, and then be on her way to Mirkwood, there to rescue Bilbo from the giant spiders that would entrap him.

As she swerved towards the mountain, something rose to meet her.

Xacanythia pulled up, gazing in astonishment. The fast-moving shape was another dragon! Red-gold he was, with furious eyes and a lashing tail. Xacanythia flew to meet him, curious as to what she was doing here. She knew she was the only shapeshifter in Middle-earth, and she had thought she was the last dragon.

The beast opened his jaws. Xacanythia smiled and prepared to accept his greeting of light.

Fire poured over her instead. Xacanythia cried out, feeling as though a vast hand had slapped her out of the sky. Down she went, pinwheeling end over end, her wings afire and her body catching. Perhaps she would survive if she found water. She clung to that thought. There was a lake nearby, somewhere...

But she struck the ground with enough force to break every bone in her body, and a moment later Smaug landed beside her and ended it. Then, because all that flying had rather worn him out, he settled down to a good meal, already nicely roasted.

--------

Morgoth stared at the board. Varda stared at her fingers and hummed. Random stars winked in and out.

Then Morgoth said, "That wasn't cheating."

"No," said Varda. "That was a Sue thinking dragons are nice, and being punished for it. That was you forgetting some things."

Morgoth shook his head- not to deny what she said, but just in acknowledgment of the Sue's stupidity. He stared at the board a while longer, then said, "I think I understand what to do now," and moved another piece forward.

For the first time, Varda looked worried. "Her?" she objected.

"Her," Morgoth confirmed smugly.