A/N: Glad everyone's enjoying this! Hope you enjoy the race to end just as much.

Here we go, one of the last two chapters. I may end up splitting this up because of the length, but maybe not.

Either way, the story's probably going to end tomorrow.

Weird.


I don't own the Tolkien characters. The only characters of mine that have appeared in this story are the Sues, and I was as glad to see them go as anyone else was.

The Game of the Gods, 31

"There they are."

Morgoth squinted. He and Varda were almost at the western edge of Valinor, and he could see that Tulkas was battling- something. He frowned. Tulkas had what must be near the greatest strength in the Kingdom of Arda, if not the greatest. What could Fëanor have found that would fight him?

Morgoth found that he didn't want to know.

Varda, of course, was going to insist on knowing. "Tulkas!" she called, and Morgoth could see that she was fighting back that damn laughter again. She always seemed to be on Fëanor's side, at least partially. "Found something that's a little too much for you to handle?"

"Shut up!" Tulkas shouted, and ducked a swipe from the opponent facing him. "It's not funny. And you wouldn't be able to defeat him, either."

"Of course not," said the figure, in a bored voice that Morgoth found horribly familiar. "No one can defeat me. I am the ultimate fighter, the ultimate wizard, the ultimate ladies' man. No one can make me less than I am."

Morgoth swallowed. He opened the box of Sues and looked at the very back of it, at the slots that held the most powerful ones. There they were, the two empty places where he had found only a note in Maedhros's shaky hand laughing at him.

"I can defeat you, you-" Varda was shouting.

Morgoth tapped her on the shoulder. She jerked away as if his hand was slimy. Morgoth stiffened proudly. He scraped the slime off at least once every Valian Year; she had nothing to complain about.

"No, Varda, you really can't," he said quietly. "This is Steel, my Gary Stu, and I deliberately made him the best at everything. Even I couldn't have stopped him once he got into a game."

"Which means," said Varda, her voice thick with horror, "that you'll win?"

Morgoth hadn't thought of it like that. He brightened up when he began to. "Yes, I think I will," he said, watching with approval as Steel forced Tulkas backwards. Of course, he was supposedly an Elf, but he had the power to grow to giant size if he wanted, and the robot arms that he had built for himself were easily moving towards a grip around Tulkas's throat.

"No," said an easy voice near them, "it means that I'll win."

Morgoth leaped in the air, and then turned around. Fëanor grinned at him and waved a lazy hand at his sons, who all moved up behind him. Morgoth looked away. He could have borne Maedhros's knowing stare, even the way the twins and Maglor grinned, but Curufin's funny smile was really getting on his nerves.

"You must have wondered what I was doing," said Fëanor. "Come, Morgoth, share your attempts to equal my cleverness with us. What did you think I was doing? I promise that I'll allow you time to think about your answer."

Morgoth looked pleadingly at Varda, but she was watching Tulkas and Steel and muttering about ways to defeat the Gary Stu. She was always one to take up the hopeless causes, Morgoth thought, scowling as he turned back. Improving Elves, making stars that would only burn out in the end- trying to put down enemies who could not be put down.

"I thought," he said at last, "that you might have wanted to fight a final battle, against me and the Valar."

"Wrong," said Fëanor sharply. He nodded to someone behind Morgoth. "You know what to do, Caranthir."

Morgoth started to turn, but it was too late. Caranthir stabbed down sharply with the sword he held, and Morgoth howled as it went through the foot that Fingolfin hadn't wounded. He hopped backwards, and out came black blood in a steaming gout. He continued to hop, while Caranthir leaned on his sword and looked at the Vala contentedly.

"That," he said, "was rather fun."

Morgoth recovered his balance at last, and yelled at Fëanor, "Well, how was I supposed to know? You seem determined to unleash Steel, so you might want to destroy us for all I know."

Fëanor sighed. Speaking patiently, he said, "If I destroyed all of you, then I would be destroying the only ones who can properly appreciate my triumph. The Vanyar and the Teleri won't stop their singing long enough to pay attention to anyone else. A lot of the people I would have liked to see this are either in Mandos or living under that milksop Finarfin, and can't or won't see. I need an audience. I am leaving you alive to be my audience." He smiled. "Guess again."

"I can't-"

"Morgoth!"

Morgoth turned swiftly. Steel had knocked Tulkas down and was standing with one foot on his neck, while leaning forward and smirking at Varda. The Star-Kindler was backing away from the Gary Stu with a look of utter disgust on her face.

Morgoth sighed. "What did he do now?" he asked.

"He said… he said…" Varda shook her head. "I can't even repeat it. It was so disgusting."

"I asked her if she thought the sky was particularly dark," said Steel, sounding huffy, "since she has the stars beaming out of her eyes."

Morgoth waited. Varda glared at him. Steel looked plaintive.

"Well?" Morgoth asked Varda at last. "You do have the stars beaming out of your eyes, and you know that fact as well as anyone else does."

"But he can't just say it!" yelled Varda. "He's trying to pick me up!"

"Of course," said Steel, blinking. "That's what I do with pretty women. What else would you suggest I do?"

"Court them, perhaps," said Varda. "And above all, take care to recognize those Valier who are already married."

"You're an old married lady?" Steel looked as if someone had kicked him in the gut. "Ugh. Wowzer. Thanks for telling me, man. I'll go find a nice, fresh Vala maiden to court instead."

He wandered off.

Varda stared after him, gasping. Then she turned to Morgoth, and he actually flinched at the level of hatred in her eyes.

"Destroy him," she ground out. "Do it."

"I told you, I can't destroy him," said Morgoth. From the look on Varda's face, he guessed that was a bad thing to say, but it was the truth. He shrank away from her, looking down and hoping that would help. "I really can't. He's a Gary Stu, and they're more powerful than Marys. It's just their reason for existing."

Varda opened her mouth to say something that would probably be cutting.

"Why not be mad at Fëanor?" added Morgoth, as a flash of inspiration hit him. "Since it was all his fault anyway."

Varda turned at once. "Why did you loose this- Stu, Fëanor?" she asked in a voice of dangerous calm. "Did you know what it would do?"

"Oh, of course," said Fëanor mildly, gazing west into the darkness instead of at Varda. "It's all part of my master plan."

"You don't have a plan!" Varda howled. "I bet you're just making it all up as you go along!"

Fëanor laughed. "Actually, I'm not. But would it really matter if I was? You can't stop me. There's only one person who can stop me."

"Who?"

"Soon," said Fëanor dreamily, still gazing towards the Void. "Very soon now."

Varda's retort was interrupted by a loud shriek. Morgoth winced. He knew who that was. She was usually soft-voiced and gentle, but when she got going, Estë could scream.

"Come on," groaned Varda, and headed towards the gardens of Lórien. Morgoth hesitated, then remembered that Fëanor and his sons were behind him and followed her hastily.

"But I didn't get a chance to do what I wanted to do, Father!" Curufin whined.

"Don't worry, my son," said Fëanor soothingly. "You shall be able to torture the dark coward all you like, soon enough."

Morgoth closed his eyes. He couldn't stand being called a coward.

On the other hand, he couldn't stand the thought of limping more badly than he was already limping because of an Elf, either.

He kept following Varda.

-----

"I love my husband!"

"Yes, but you're pretty," said Steel's voice. "And you were walking alone and singing. Everyone knows that maidens do that when they're sighing for love. I bet that you're not really married. You're betrothed to some evil, ugly bastard you feel compelled to marry for your family's sake, but what you really want is love and passion."

"I get plenty of that from Lórien!" Estë was shouting, backing away from Steel with her hair disheveled.

Morgoth muttered to Varda, "Let's intervene. I'm really not all that curious what Estë and Lórien get up to in the bedchamber."

"Nor am I," Varda agreed, and stepped forward with a loud cough. Steel looked around at her. "I hate to break up your fun," she said, "but Estë is also married, and has been for a long time."

Steel looked wistfully at Estë. "How long?"

"Since the beginning of the world."

"Damn," muttered Steel, and wandered away again.

Varda shook her head and turned to Estë. "Is there any way that you could make him go to sleep, perhaps? Get water from your vats and scatter it on his eyes?"

Estë gave her a grumpy glance. She was straightening her hair and her dress as if they had been torn to pieces. "You know that just offers refreshment," she said. "And I think that's the last thing he needs."

"Get Lórien to send him dreams and put him to sleep, then."

"That might work," Estë agreed, and hurried away.

"It won't work," said Morgoth. "I told you, he can resist absolutely anything. He likes to make advances to pretty women, but that's his only weakness. He'll just fight his way free of the dream, and after that he'll have the power of dream magic, or something similar."

Varda swore in frustration. Morgoth shrugged to recognize his name amongst her curse words. At least that proves she doesn't think I'm on her side.

"We have to stop Fëanor," she said. "We have to make sure that his plan, whatever it is, doesn't succeed."

"Then shouldn't you be concentrating on Fëanor, instead of Steel?" Morgoth said, quite pleased with himself for pointing out the obvious.

Varda paused for a moment. Then she turned towards him with a bright, malicious smile. Morgoth swallowed, suddenly thinking it might have been better to keep his opinion to himself.

"Yes, of course, you're exactly right," said Varda, almost crooning. "One of us should concentrate on Fëanor. And he seems to like bragging to you the most. Perhaps you can't trick his plan out of him, or guess it, but you could flatter it out of him."

Morgoth felt sick. He shook his head, tried to express his objections, and finally came out with, "The only person I should be speaking flattery to is myself."

Varda bared her teeth in something that was definitely not a smile. "Go and talk to him, or I'll do something you'll hate far more."

"There's nothing I would hate more than kissing my enemy's foot!" Morgoth wailed. "I wasn't made to do that!"

"I'll make you sit in a room with Nienna and Estë, while Estë talks about her hair and Nienna talks about your inner Ainu."

"I'm going," said Morgoth, and fled. Fëanor at least usually ran out of things to say after a while.

Of course, Morgoth remembered, the Elf had shown unsurpassed eloquence on the subject of his own genius so far.

------

"Morgoth," said Fëanor, without taking his eyes off the Void. He was smiling in anticipation, though Morgoth wasn't sure of what. The Void just looked like darkness to him when he glanced at it. "So nice of you to join us. Are you going to guess what my plan is again?"

"Yes, please do," said Caranthir enthusiastically. He smiled at Morgoth. "I think I want to stab you under the armpit this time."

Morgoth winced, tried to make it clear that he wasn't limping too badly, and looked at Fëanor with as innocent an expression as he could on his face. "I was thinking I would much rather hear about your plan from your own mouth," he said. "I don't think that words could do it justice."

Fëanor gave him a startled glance. "Why, thank you. Words can't do it justice. That much is true."

"So will you tell me?" Morgoth asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust to hear himself sound as if he were pleading. It's for a good cause, he tried to remind himself, but he had heard the same words used to excuse everything from the Vanyar singing to Manwë setting Fëanor free in the first place, so they didn't have the effect they might have.

Or maybe they don't have that effect on me because I'm still the Lord of Evil, Morgoth thought, brightening.

"Hmmm," said Fëanor.

"Oh, Father, don't!" Caranthir pleaded. "I really, really want to stab him."

"And flay him," said one of the twins. Morgoth had never been able to tell them apart that well. He thought this one was Amrod, but he couldn't be sure.

"No, it was impalement," the other corrected. "Honestly, Amras, we talked about it for ages in Mandos. Get it right."

"I want my turn, too," said Curufin, and went on smiling in a funny way. Morgoth shuddered and looked at Fëanor.

"Think about it this way," he said. "You'll just have to wait for your plan to play out, if you don't explain it to me. If you do, then that means you can show it off twice- once when you explain, once when it happens."

Fëanor grinned fiercely. "At times I like the way you imitate thoughts from your betters," he said. "All right. What I wanted with the Silmarils was-"

The darkness beyond the world rippled. Fëanor leaned forward, staring intently.

An Elven woman, looking tired and harassed, walked out of it.

"What are you doing here?" Fëanor asked, sounding infinitely disappointed.

"This isn't quite a big enough disturbance to get the attention you wanted," said the Elf coolly. "He sent me instead, even though I should have been able to rest in peace." She turned and looked at Morgoth. "And you'll stay out of my way and not help your Stu, or I'll just show everyone why I won our first confrontation."

Morgoth cowered. Even the laughter of Fëanor's sons couldn't make him stand more upright.

"Um…hello, Lúthien," he croaked.

Lúthien glared at him, snorted, and then turned away. "I'll handle Steel," she called over her shoulder. "Always a woman's job, isn't it?"



Yes, I'll have to split the chapter up. There should be another part coming later today.

And Fëanor's plan will eventually be revealed, I swear.