Thanks for the reviews, everyone! I really am having fun with this.
Students are driving me batty right now.
I think I will drive Morgoth batty instead.
The Game of the Gods, 11
"Move her forward," Varda snapped.
Morgoth coyly toyed with the Sue, moving her forward, moving her back, dancing
her up and down his shoulder. "And why should we?" he asked. "We
should be careful of Varda's feelings, shouldn't we?"
"You sound like Gollum when you do that," said Varda, apparently
examining her nails.
Morgoth slammed the piece down in the middle of the board. "How dare
you!" he roared. "I am nothing like that slimy, sniveling, cowardly,
schizophrenic-"
"It got you to put her down, didn't it?" Varda asked smugly.
Morgoth had to pause and think about that. Then he grinned at Varda. "I
thought you hated this Sue."
"I like to see them die," said Varda, her unblinking eyes fixed on
the Sue.
Morgoth shuddered a little, and then tapped the Sue.
--------
"We are almost there, my lady."
Kennilista tossed her shining golden hair out of her eyes and gazed at the
Golden Wood. Lórien was to be her home from now on, she knew, and she was to be
its Queen someday- but that was a secret she carried like her heart inside of
her. Only Elrond, who had reared her far and in secret from the jealous
Galadriel, knew about that besides herself. Kennilista was the last of the true
royal blood of Lórien, whose throne Galadriel had usurped, and she would have
to wait to gather her strength.
"Let us go forward," she said softly, and her escort moved forward
again, around her shining dove-gray mare. Kennilista patted the faithful beast
and thought soothing thoughts at her, while smiling at the boughs of the trees.
What King Elrond said is true, she thought. I do look like the Woods.
And she did, with her hair golden as the leaves of the mellyrn, and her skin
pale as the trunks of their trees. Her eyes were silver, the color of the
bright stream Nimrodel on the outskirts of the Wood.
They had almost reached the trees when a voice abruptly called,
"Halt!"
Kennilista halted, trembling. That voice was almost the mirror of her own!
While she waited, an Elf leaped from the grass and stuck a blade that glimmered
like ice through her heart.
-----
Morgoth roared and smashed his hand down. "That doesn't count!" he
screamed at Varda.
Varda's eyes blazed like Laurelin on fire. "I know it doesn't count,"
she said darkly, and bent close to the board. "Fëanor, get out of there
right now."
Fëanor danced on the grass for a moment, then ran away again. Varda made a
grab, but he was too fast for her, and as he turned his sword sideways it
became invisible, without even its gleam to betray him.
"How did he get to Middle-earth so fast?" Morgoth wondered, slumping
back in his seat.
"I don't think he really is in Middle-earth," said Varda, also
sitting back, "any more than we are. He's in the gamespace, though, and
that could be troublesome."
"Not if you let me resurrect my Sues."
"Well..."
Morgoth assumed a pitiful expression, the same one he had worn when they bound
him with Angainor. It hadn't worked on Tulkas, but Yavanna and Nienna were
suckers for it, and it seemed as though Varda might be as well.
"All right," Varda said.
Morgoth smiled and waved his hand.
-----
Kennilista halted, trembling. That voice was almost the mirror of her own!
She looked up and saw an Elf descending through the branches of the mallorn
nearest her. His hair was long and golden, and his eyes were bright silver.
Kennilista found it hard to breathe.
"Who comes to the Lady's realm?" the guard asked, leveling his arrow
at Kennilista.
Kennilista recovered swiftly. She couldn't allow her subjects to go about
pointing bows at her, even if they didn't know who she was. "My name is
Kennilista," she said, leaving off the title she merited out of habit.
"I was a guest of King Elrond for many years."
"Lord Elrond," the guard corrected, a strange look in his eyes.
Kennilista shrugged. If the common subjects of Lórien wanted to deny the King
of Rivendell his title, it was of no matter to her. "I am a friend of his
daughter, the Princess Arwen."
The guard relaxed at once. "The Evenstar is the granddaughter of the Lady
of the Galadhrim," he said, bowing. "And though you speak of them
strangely, any of their friends is welcome in the Golden Wood."
"Thank you," said Kennilista sweetly. "What is your name?"
"Haldir."
Kennilista trembled again, but thought she hid it well. Haldir had been- was-
is?- the name of her lost father.
Haldir gave her a strange look, then summoned a guide to the Lady of the Golden
Wood with a whistle.
An Elf jumped out from behind a tree and shot a precisely aimed arrow, taking
Kennilista through the throat.
-----
Morgoth moaned and lowered his head. "Where did he get a bow?" he
asked rhetorically.
Fëanor heard him and answered anyway. "I made one, out of a piece of grass
and a bone, of course," he said, then snorted. "If you really thought
I wouldn't protect my niece's home, O Silmaril-less One, you should think
again."
Varda, who had been sneaking across the board on the other side, again grabbed
at Fëanor, and again he leaped into the Golden Wood, with a laugh, and
vanished.
Morgoth looked at her. This time, he didn't even need to ask before she waved a
hand, and he resurrected Kennilista.
-----
Kennilista rubbed her throat, which hurt for some reason, and gazed upon the
fair face of Galadriel with stirring emotions in her heart. The Lady of the
Golden Wood was indeed beautiful, but she was a usurper, and she sat on the
throne with as much confidence as if she had a right to be there.
Kennilista could hear King Elrond's advice in her head. Do not reveal who
you are until you have been in Lórien for some time. Your people will need that
time to accept their Princess into their hearts.
But seeing Galadriel so smug in her position, doubtless thinking that no one
would challenge her ever again, was too much for Kennilista. She stood tall,
and proclaimed, "I have returned!"
Galadriel, who had risen to begin a doubtlessly faultlessly fake welcoming speech,
stared at her. "I beg your pardon?"
"I need not answer a usurper's questions!" snapped Kennilista.
"Foul sorceress!"
She turned around to begin her own speech, and found Haldir's arrow aimed at
her once again.
"No one speaks to the Lady of the Galadhrim so," he said in a low,
threatening voice.
Kennilista smiled winsomely at him. She was sure, now, what must have happened,
and the words flowed forth from her with confidence.
"She's bewitched you, Father. Once you were King of Lórien, and my mother
ruled at your side as your gracious Queen. But soon after I was born, Galadriel
grew jealous and plotted to take the Golden Wood. She killed Mother, and she
thought she had killed me- and for long years I thought you, too, were dead.
But I escaped in the talons of the eagles, who bore me to King Elrond of
Rivendell. And she- the foul sorceress has bewitched you, taking your memory
and not making you remember me or your throne!"
"I have no daughter," said Haldir grimly, and began to bend his bow.
"Wait."
Kennilista turned comfortably back towards Galadriel. The usurper knew who she
was. Her words would justify Kennilista's.
The Lady of the Golden Wood was staring at her closely. "You are of the
blood of Amroth?"
"What?" Kennilista asked. "Who is Amroth?"
"The last King of Lórien," Galadriel answered gently. "He was
lost at sea, and his love Nimrodel in the hills of the south, and neither of
them came ever back. You are claiming to be his daughter?"
Kennilista shook her head impatiently. "You are not listening. Haldir was
my father, and he was King of Lórien until you bewitched him."
"The last King of Lórien was Amroth," said a new voice, and a tall
Elf with long silver hair came forward to stand at Galadriel's side.
"Haldir never ruled-"
"I certainly did not," Haldir muttered indignantly. Kennilista could
hear the wood of his bow creaking.
"-and he has no daughter."
"I certainly do not."
"Who are you?" Kennilista asked the silver-haired Elf.
"Celeborn, husband of Galadriel and Lord of Lórien," said the Elf,
sounding amused. "Together we have ruled in the Wood for centuries. I
believe we should have remembered if we deposed Haldir, killed his wife, and
sent his daughter into exile."
"Are you laughing at me?" Kennilista demanded.
"No," said Galadriel, and she looked stern. "I want to know what
purpose you have in telling this ridiculous story. At first I believed you
harmless, but now I think you do intend harm. Who are you?"
Kennilista listened to the tale of her denied heritage with disbelieving ears.
"This cannot be!" she cried. "King Elrond-"
"Elrond is no more a King than I am," said Celeborn. "He is Lord
of Rivendell."
Galadriel nodded.
Kennilista made the most defiant gesture she could think of, and sprang forward
and slapped Galadriel.
The next moment she was on the floor, with tremendous pain flowering in the
middle of her back. Haldir's arrow was in her, she thought, and rolled over to
look up into her father's face. Perhaps the flow of her blood would call to his
blood and kindle his memories.
But he only stared at her with hatred in his eyes, and said nothing.
Kennilista put one out hand, intending to make a stuttering, dramatic dying
speech.
"F-f-f-f-f-father, I l-l-l-l-love y-y-y-"
"Oh, for Eru's sake," said Fëanor, and cut off her head.
-----
Morgoth looked at Varda. "Cheating?"
"Not this time," Varda cooed. "She was dying of Haldir's arrow,
you know that." She paused, then shook her head. "Why do all of them
think that Galadriel is royalty? Or Elrond?"
"Perhaps because they are related to me, and I am too wonderful not to
appear royal," Fëanor suggested.
"Shut up," Morgoth snapped, before Varda could say anything.
"Most of the Sue authors don't even know you exist."
"What?" Fëanor asked quietly.
"Fëanor-" Varda began.
"I will make them know I exist, before I am done," said
Fëanor, and vanished into the trees of the Golden Wood once again.
Morgoth stared helplessly at Varda. "He's going to keep interfering, isn't
he?"
Varda nodded. "And I can't let you keep resurrecting the Sues
forever."
Morgoth gnawed his lip for a moment, then stopped, because it hurt. Sometimes
he thought he shouldn't have chosen such long fangs for teeth. "I do have
a few where that would not be necessary."
"Use them."
"It will make the game harder," Morgoth warned her.
"You haven't won yet, Morgoth," said Varda, and then smiled. "Or
did you manage to forget that, in the excitement of losing?"
Morgoth growled and reached under the table, into a box marked,
"Difficult."
I get so annoyed by Sue authors assuming royalty is just around every
corner in Middle-earth...