A/N: Thank you for the reviews, everyone! I'm stunned by the enthusiasm for the story, and glad that you're having as much fun reading as I am writing.

Miss Kaltia, I'd be honored if you want to use the letters to Morgoth. As long as you credit me, quote whatever you like.

I'm looking forward to this one.



Don't own Celegorm or Morgoth or any of the other recognizable Tolkien characters appearing in this one. And I am ashamed to admit I made up these Sues.

The Game of the Gods, 16

Morgoth rubbed his hands as Celegorm sat down on the other side of the table. "This should be easy," he said aloud.

Celegorm just gave him a blank look. Morgoth sniggered, sure Celegorm had no idea what he'd said. But then, Celegorm didn't have much of an idea about anything.

Morgoth said, "You'll see that I have here-"

A yapping noise interrupted him. His eyes narrowed as he watched Celegorm open the bag he carried and remove a small dog, a poodle by the looks of it. The poodle sniffed at the air, bared its teeth at Morgoth, and then tried to scratch a flea and yap at once. Celegorm put it on his lap.

"What," Morgoth demanded through clenched teeth, "is that?"

"Since Huan abandoned me, I've felt the need of a companion," said Celegorm, with a perfectly straight face.

Morgoth peered at him suspiciously, remembering how Maglor had talked to him at first, and then shook his head. No. This time I'm sure. Celegorm was an absolute and entire idiot all through the First Age. Being in Mandos can't have changed him that much.

"What's its name?" he asked.

"Lúthien."

Morgoth blinked, then began to smile. He had forgotten that Celegorm had fallen in love with Lúthien, and that gave him an idea for his Sue. "Beren doesn't mind that you named your dog after his wife?" he asked.

Celegorm sobbed theatrically and clutched at Lúthien. The poodle bit him on the hand, but he didn't let her go. "She is gone, gone from the world! They both are! I shall never see the love of my life again!"

Morgoth rolled his eyes, snorted softly, and put his Sue into play. Yes, this would be an easy victory.

------

"Swan!"

Swan looked at herself in the mirror, then turned away again. It was no use. She was still ugly. The passing days brought no relief. She still had the ugly, brown eyes and smooth features that made all the elves in the village laugh at her. She was still half-human.

-----

Celegorm had gone quiet. Morgoth looked up to see him eying the Sue in puzzlement.

"But she's not ugly," he said. "She's quite pretty, actually. And she doesn't look very different from an Elf."

"Part of the game," Morgoth responded, even more reassured. Celegorm quite obviously had no idea what was going on. Of course, that could be because Lúthien was currently pissing in his lap.

-----

Swan turned away at her mother's yell, and came slowly down the stairs. She was prepared for the heavy slap the Elf gave her, and the way that Amalinde's eyes narrowed as she stepped back and looked her daughter up and down.

"You're still ugly, Swan," she said.

Yes, Swan was used to it, but she couldn't help her eyes filling with tears. The clothes she wore, a man's tunic and trousers, just fit her better than the fragile gowns her mother would have made her wear, and were better-suited to the forests of Mirkwood. But her mother saw only a fat half-human, instead of the slender Elven daughter she'd wanted. She never noticed Swan's toned muscles, or the way that her face was beginning to look, as beautiful as Lúthien's.

-----

The poodle whined at her name. Celegorm set her on the floor and leaned over the gaming table.

"As beautiful as Lúthien?" he asked quietly.

"Of course," said Morgoth. "She must be."

-----

In truth, Amalinde knew full well that her daughter was beautiful, but she was jealous of her and wanted to keep Swan from seeing it as long as possible. Her mother was old, and bitter, and knew that her own time was fading. Elves were supposed to be immortal, but not if they married humans. Amalinde had given up her immortality for love, and then her husband was killed, and she was left with her halfbreed, outcast daughter and a silly prophecy that said that daughter would marry a prince. It would never happen, of course, because Swan wasn't a real lady.

-----

"Make him stop staring at me."

Morgoth looked up. Oromë was staring at Celegorm, and chirping something in bird-language.

"What's he saying?" Morgoth asked.

"Telling me I'm an idiot," said Celegorm, with a sigh. "Which you think he would get tired of, really. Now, are we going to play or not?"

"So far, you're not doing anything to counteract the Sue," said Morgoth with a suspicious frown.

Celegorm smiled at him in a funny way. "Tell me again how beautiful she is."

Morgoth shrugged and complied- eagerly enough, since it did continuing damage to the substance of Arda.

-----

Swan stumbled out the door, weeping. Of course, that couldn't damage her face or her fairness. She had pale skin that didn't tan or scar, and was still as soft in some places as when she was born. Her mother made her work long and hard in the hot sun and scratching among the twigs in the forest, but Swan still never got more beyond a few scratches that always healed instantly.

Her face was high and gentle, and though the planes of her cheeks were smooth like a human's, they still looked as aristocratic as an elf's. Her brown eyes weren't the color of mud, as her mother often told her, but a rich, deep chocolate. Her hair was long and fair, and tumbled almost to her ankles, swept by a streak of glimmering silver. Her voice was sweet enough to make nightingales sing back to her.

Not that Swan knew any of this, of course. She was determined to believe that she was ugly, since her mother had told her so, and she knew that nothing good could come of her life.

"If I really am destined to marry a prince," she muttered as she turned to picking briars, "it's probably a prince of the Orcs!"

------

Morgoth looked up to see what the effect of this was on Celegorm, and blinked. Celegorm was gone. Morgoth looked at Tulkas and Ulmo, who looked on him and stank of sweat and dead fish respectively, but told him nothing.

Morgoth smiled. Celegorm must have seized the opportunity to run away. That meant trouble for the Fëanorian when he was recaptured, and an easy victory for him. He turned happily back to the playing board.

-----

"Hello, my fair lady."

Swan looked up, blushing. The voice was speaking a palpable untruth, but it was kind enough. A handsome Elf stood framed among the trees, gazing at her. His face was bright in a way that she had never seen before.

"Hello," she responded, softly, nervously, one hand rising to touch the streak of silver in her hair. It was the one thing she always wanted to hide, since it was even uglier than the rest of her.

"Why do you cover yourself so?" the Elf asked, stepping closer. "Do you fear that I will harm you?"

-----

Morgoth jumped back from the table.

Tulkas blinked at him. "Is something wrong?"

Morgoth leveled a shaking finger at the game table. "Celegorm- Celegorm is in my story. It was supposed to be Legolas."

-----

"No," muttered Swan, turning her eyes away from him. She was so small. How could he look at her like that? "I fear that you will hate me."

"Why should I?" The Elf took her hand. "You are the fairest maiden I have ever seen. You remind me of- someone I once knew." For a moment, his face darkened, but he shook it off. "You are beautiful."

-----

"Talk to him," Morgoth pleaded with Oromë, who was watching him in bewilderment.

Oromë cleared his throat, then leaned over the gaming board and said, "Celegorm, you are not to seduce the Sue."

If Celegorm heard him, he gave no sign of it, and Morgoth watched in inarticulate rage as the story continued to unfold.

-------

Swan blushed. The Elf was kissing her fingers now. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I am called the Fair One, sometimes," he answered, stepping back into sunlight and shadow.

"I can well believe it," Swan whispered. For all his talk of her beauty, he was the loveliest thing she had ever seen.

"Will you walk and talk with me?" the Fair One asked. "I am bored of those Elves who can only talk of the past. I would speak with someone whose inner beauty matches her outer."

Swan, among many blushes, agreed to walk with him indeed.

-----

Morgoth was shaking. Not even the other Fëanorians had annoyed him this much. He waited for the best time to reach in and grab Celegorm, certain he could fetch the Elf out before he killed Swan. So far, Celegorm still didn't seem inclined to do much about the Sue.

-----

"It's a lovely sunset, is it not?"

"Hmmm." Swan closed her eyes. She was leaning against the Fair One's shoulder, almost unable to believe she had found him, the prince she was destined for. All day they had spoken of her beauty, and sometimes of hunting, and the loveliness of the forest. There was sadness in the Fair One's eyes, but it eased when he looked at her. Swan knew she had found the man of her dreams, and her destiny.

"Swan?"

Swan opened her eyes. The Fair One was reaching into his belt.

"I have a gift for you," he said.

Swan blushed at the delightfully naughty thoughts that were ripping through her head, but didn't get far before the Fair One whipped out two knives, slicing through her throat and his own at almost the same moment.

-----

Morgoth wailed and grabbed for Celegorm, but the Elves' spirits were already dissolving. Celegorm hovered for a moment above the gaming table, holding the struggling Swan in his arms, and grinning the mad grin that Morgoth had seen before only on Fëanor's face.

"Thank you for this companion of my loneliness," said Celegorm. "You may keep Lúthien." And he turned and flew back to Mandos, dragging Swan with him all the way.

"What?" Morgoth asked, but felt the poodle bite his ankles, and understood. He kicked the dog, who growled and hung on to his foot, chewing. Morgoth reached down to pry her off, intending to throw her into the nearest wall.

"How dare you hurt her!" Oromë screamed, and grabbed the poodle away, cuddling her close. She bit him.

Morgoth sank back into his seat, and turned to look at Tulkas. "That's my Sue. There must be some way to get her back."

"Sorry," said Tulkas, grinning now. "I don't think there is."

"But I created her, and he stole her from me!" Morgoth wailed.

"He went back to Mandos where he belonged," said Varda, stepping unexpectedly from around a star. Three cloaked figures followed her. "I think Námo and several others will be too happy about that to take her from him. They barely agreed to let me bring out these people as it was."

"Who are they?" Morgoth asked, staring hard at the figures. They wore such heavy clothes, though, that he couldn't see anything of their heads or hands or other identifying features. One did wear a sword.

"Strange as it may seem, Morgoth, I don't like seeing you lose all the time," said Varda, leaning against the table. "It makes it boring, and makes me feel sorry for you- neither an emotion I can afford. So I brought forth these three. One is Turgon, one is Finrod Felagund, and one is Finarfin. I won't tell you who's who, but all of them should provide easier opponents than what you've faced so far."

Morgoth brightened. "They should indeed," he muttered, and studied them intently.

No good. He still couldn't tell. But any of them would be easy to beat, he thought contentedly. Turgon's expertise was hide-and-seek, not Sue games. Finrod was too nice to pull underhanded tricks, and Finarfin too noble.

After a while, Morgoth nodded to the figure with the sword by his side. It was probably Turgon, since he had always gone armed in the last days of the war. "I choose him."

"Very well," said Varda, and led the others away. The cloaked figure sat down on the other side of the table.

"Remove your hood?" Morgoth asked.

The figure shook his head.

"Very well," said Morgoth, and chose the next Sue, heart lighter than it had been in some time- at least until he put his foot in one of Lúthien's puddles.



Something a little different this time.