A/N: Thank you again for the reviews!

Crossover Sues Week in the Game of the Gods! Let's see how much havoc they can cause...

(Oh, just to clear up any misunderstandings: Turingethil, the last Sue, is definitely dead, since she was immortal like an Elf, not a Vala. She won't be coming back to trouble Morgoth or any of the others).


Don't own the Tolkien characters.

The Game of the Gods, 23

"Morgoth."

Morgoth hid, and shivered.

"Morgoth," said Galadriel patiently, "you're bigger than the table. I can see it lifted up off the ground. Besides, there's not room enough there for both you and Sauron."

Morgoth ignored her, hastily fishing in his box of Sues. There were some that might distract her- ah, this one!

"Come out so I can have more room to beat you into the pulp you deserve to be," said Galadriel, and Morgoth had the feeling she was bending down and looking directly at him, though he refused to open his eyes and check.

Fumbling, Morgoth threw the Sue onto the board.

"What the-?" Galadriel began.

Then she screamed in rage, so Morgoth assumed his Sue was doing a good job. He huddled, and shivered and shook, remembering how Galadriel had reacted when Fëanor asked for a strand of her hair. Fëanor hadn't been able to walk straight for a week afterwards. Actually insulting her would make her do something a good deal worse.

If his Sue could spare him from that for a while, Morgoth was willing to sacrifice her.

-----

"Run! He's coming!!!"

Mirandola Potter pushed her legs, forced herself to run, all the while almost sobbing for breath. The lightning-bolt scar on her forehead burned like fire. Voldemort was here, and he had just killed her twin brother Harry, the savior of the wizarding world that everyone knew about. Now it was up to Mirandola to stop him.

But she knew she couldn't stop him. Not yet. She had to run, had to push, had to go somewhere else until she could gather the strength to stop him.

Whipping out her wand- eleven inches, oak, with a gryphon's tail feather core- she pointed it at the air and shouted, "Spatio mundus!"

The air opened in front of her, and the terrified fifteen-year-old jumped through, her long black hair whipping behind her. Silence and darkness swallowed her almost at once.

*****

Mirandola opened her eyes slowly. She lay on the bank of a pool, and all around her, dried brown grass swayed in the wind.

Slowly, she stood, and glanced around, gaze arrested as she caught sight of herself in the water. The glamour that shielded her had collapsed, and she could see her Elvish face and pointed ears.

Mirandola sighed and pushed her hair back behind her ears. The worst had happened, then. She had transformed back into what she really was- Harry's twin half-sister, daughter of Lily Potter and Lord Elrond Halfelven- and she had come back back to Middle-earth. She was needed to save it once again. It needed her even more desperately than the wizarding world did.

Resigned, she began to walk.

-----

"Morgoth? What is this?"

Morgoth kept his eyes stubbornly closed. He didn't need to look, he didn't have to look-

"Morgoth."

That was a different voice. Morgoth nearly blubbered in relief. Varda was back, and she would take care of him. He started to crawl out from under the table towards her voice.

"He sent a girl into Arda from another place," Galadriel said. "And she was waving a stick around and shouting nonsense. I don't see why that should send a girl into Arda from another place."

Morgoth froze. He knew that Varda hated Sues from other worlds with a passion, and she would have stopped him from using Mirandola if she had been playing opposite him when the game began. No doubt, he thought, there are all sorts of ways that worldwalking spells can go wrong.

"He did that?" Varda asked.

"Yes," said Galadriel.

There was a silence. Then Varda said, "This is called a Sue. It disrupts the balance of Middle-earth by being too powerful, or an impossible child of yours, or from another world."

"I only had one child," said Galadriel, sounding puzzled.

"They make others up."

"Who?"

"The creators of these Sues. Morgoth, in this case."

"Then we should make him-"

Morgoth stopped his ears, in case Galadriel's next words gave him nightmares for the rest of his immortal existence. When he thought she was done, he cautiously lifted his hands away.

"-and then strip his skin away with knives-"

Morgoth whimpered and covered his ears again, only uncovering them when he heard Varda say, "Of course she can be defeated. Watch."

Morgoth huddled down. Every moment they were paying attention to Mirandola was one moment they weren't paying attention to him, and he began to hope he could escape.

-----

Mirandola gathered nuts and berries as she walked through the woods. She didn't know where exactly in Middle-earth she was, but she didn't think that mattered. The strength of her destiny was that it would always draw her exactly where she needed to go, and she would know what she needed to do when she got there.

-----

"What an insufferable brat," said Galadriel.

"Precisely," said Varda. "But you should know that we can't defeat her just by calling her an insufferable brat. The best time to stop a Sue coming from another world is when she's in the middle of the transition. Pity you didn't know enough to do something about it then."

"Can I be the one to stop her?" Galadriel asked.

"You know how?" Varda asked in doubt. Morgoth uncurled a tiny, tiny bit. They seemed to have forgotten about him.

"Oh, I have some ideas," said Galadriel sweetly. "Considering what she did to get here. And who brought her here."

Morgoth curled up tightly again.

-----

Mirandola knew that she was getting nearer her destination when she found tracks pressed into the bracken. She bent over them, touched the nearest track with one hand, and closed her eyes. She had the ability to read an object, which was how she had known that Ron Weasley had betrayed her and her brother; his left-behind wand carried traces of his treachery.

Into her mind sprang an image of the man who had made the track. He was tall, clad in greens and browns, and keen of eye. Mirandola smiled as she recognized him. He must be a Ranger of Ithilien, and she would know his name the moment she looked into his eyes and read his mind.

----

Galadriel made a spluttering noise.

"What is it?" Varda asked mildly, seeming amused.

"She's claiming that she can know the inner heart?"

"Why not? You can."

"I'm allowed!" Galadriel snapped. "I'm a Noldo who's lived since before the sun rose, and seen more battle than this brat ever will. I have seen the Trees in flower. Has she seen the Trees in flower?"

"No," said Varda mildly.

"Did she live before the sun rose?"

"No."

"And was she Lady of the Golden Wood and the shield against Sauron for thousands of years?"

"Assuredly not."

"Then there you have it," said Galadriel. "I am bloody allowed to read minds; you know I paid enough for my wisdom. This child is not."

-----

Mirandola heard shouting ahead, and began to run. Her quest was pulling at her more strongly than ever now. She could see images forming in her head, of brave little hobbits cornered by Rangers of Ithilien-

One of them had the Ring! She gasped loudly and ran as hard as she could. Her mission was to protect him and guide him to Mount Doom, and if she didn't hurry, then the Rangers would discover the Ring and take it.

She burst out of the bracken in time to see one of the Rangers reaching out towards the hobbits. Mirandola pulled out her wand, quick as lightning, and aimed it at his hand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she shouted.

Nothing happened.

-----

Galadriel snickered.

-----

Mirandola stared at the wand in her hand, then at the men in front of her, who stared back. "What's going on here?" she asked, speaking unconsciously in English.

One of them spat a stream of Westron at her, so fast that Mirandola couldn't follow it. She backed away uncertainly. She hadn't spent much time in Middle-earth, and her grasp of the language was not perfect.

"Just calm down," she said in English. "I won't hurt you."

The question, or threat, was repeated, and the sword in the hand of the man in front of her rose. Mirandola tried to read his mind, but something, probably her confusion or fear, prevented her.

-----

"Or the influence of another mind more accustomed to this kind of thing," said Galadriel smugly, "and perfectly able to use the power that she only has a sham of."

-----

Mirandola couldn't believe that her wand didn't work. Perhaps her voice had been shaking on the spell, or she hadn't aimed her wand in just the right way. She tried again, crying "Alohomora!" and aiming her wand precisely at the clasps of the Ranger's belt. It wouldn't do much, but it would fall down and distract him and give her time to get away.

Once again, nothing happened, and the stream of Westron was repeated savagely.

Mirandola turned and tried to run.

Sword or arrow, it really didn't matter what pinned her to the ground and killed her; all she could think about was her unfulfilled destiny. All the Rangers of Ithilien could think about for a short time was the strange spy, probably from Harad, who had babbled at them in an unknown language, but great matters were afoot and they soon forgot her.

*****

In the normal, unpolluted wizarding world, Harry Potter opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. It had been an odd dream, starting with his own death, but he was used to dreaming about that.

He couldn't go back to sleep, but he could get started on his Potions essay, and he swung out of bed. Soon enough, in the struggle to detail just why the wolfsbane should be mixed in this particular way, he let the dream fade as dreams tend to do.

-----

Morgoth crawled out from under the table, fuming. That had been a good one!

"Why did she fail?" he asked loudly. "I want to know-"

He fell silent when he saw Galadriel standing and gazing at him with her eyes narrowed.

"She spoke two languages that don't exist in Middle-earth," said Galadriel cool. "Latin, and English. The one could not bear her magic, and the other was unintelligible to Faramir's people. Really, Morgoth, did you think the languages of Arda would cease to exist just because she somehow managed to jump between worlds?"

"She could still have read minds, and used the language that way," said Morgoth defensively. "You interfered."

Galadriel laughed. "Because you gave her a power that can only be gained in Arda through suffering and long wisdom." She leaned forward. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kick your ass the way I promised."

"Because I have something more important to say to him," said Varda. "We'll discuss this later, Galadriel," she added, when the Noldo started to raise her voice.

Galadriel gave them both a narrow-eyed stare, then shook her head. "Fëanor won't be happy if he finds out what you're planning," she warned Varda.

"Are you going to tell him?" Varda asked.

Galadriel laughed. "No. But I've learned that it's better not to cross him."

"I thought you showed him," said Morgoth. Much as he didn't like Galadriel, what she had done to Fëanor for asking for some of her hair was a cherished memory.

Galadriel smiled coolly at him. "I did. But you're talking about the man who began the Oath and the Kinslayings- and cursed you thrice, as you remember. I would stay out of his way." She turned and stalked into the darkness.

Varda watched her go, then shook her head. "It is rather creepy when she does that," she muttered, and turned to look at Morgoth. "I found out that Manwë had given Fëanor an island in the Shadowy Seas as his sanctuary. But he didn't stay there long, or leave anything behind except this." She held out a piece of paper.

Morgoth took it, and stared at it. "Some of this looks familiar."

"Really? None of us could make much of it."

"He- he drew new tengwar for the name of my Sue when I played him," said Morgoth, eyes half-closed. "I believe this is in the same alphabet."

"Have you this new tengwar?"

Morgoth turned to begin searching for the crumpled paper, and nearly slammed into Thorondor. The eagle gave an irritated screech and handed him the message, then zoomed away among the stars. Morgoth opened it quickly, certain it was just some taunting note from Fëanor.

It said simply,

Morgoth,

I have your diary. You will make no effort to oppose or recapture my son, or I will read it aloud to all the inhabitants of Mandos.

Finwë.

Morgoth groaned loudly.

"Bad news, I take it?" Varda asked.



Stupid people crossing HP with LOTR. No one ever does it well.