She can resist the Ring...Yeah, right.
The Game of the Gods, 14
Morgoth smirked at Maglor, and was pleased to see that the Elf, unlike his terrible father, drew backwards. Of course, Maglor never had had the heart to do what was necessary, Morgoth thought comfortably. He had never managed to enter Angband, for example.
But then, when someone did, they managed to steal a Silmaril from me... Morgoth cursed silently to himself, as he always did when he thought of Beren and Lúthien, and willed his mind away from them; Sauron said it wasn't pleasant to dwell on your negative emotions. He scowled at Maglor. Maglor cowered.
"This won't be much of a challenge," said Morgoth, and sent his Sue into action. He wanted to see just how much he could get away with.
Amaryllis Silverhawk glanced up at the heights of the Emyn Muil and sighed to herself. Her charges were lost somewhere among them, and she had to dig them out.
"It figures," she muttered, hopping onto the rocks and crossing them with Elvish grace. "Of course they would manage to get lost when they're only supposed to take the Ring to a bloody fiery mountain."
Amaryllis wouldn't get lost, of course. She was the second daughter of Elrond Halfelven-
"Elrond?" Maglor asked timidly. "But he only has one daughter."
Morgoth scowled again. "You don't understand the rules of the game at all, do you?" he asked silkily, inwardly marveling at how easy it was to intimidate a Fëanorian.
Maglor licked his lips. "I understand that Elrond only has one daughter," he said, firming his spine.
Morgoth rolled his eyes. "But can you think of a way that that fact could trap her? That's the way you have to play the game. If you can't think of reality that actually opposes and kills my Sue, then you have to let her go on existing." He looked down at the gaming table, which had altered, as it usually did, from something that almost looked like a chess set to a sharp image of Middle-earth. Right now, Amaryllis was frozen in mid-climb, and Morgoth wanted her out so she could wreak havoc.
Morgoth leaned forward and smiled at Maglor, which made Maglor stare at him. "Maglor," he said gently, "this is your father we're talking about."
Maglor considered that for a moment, then said, "Yes, I think I see what you mean."
Morgoth nodded, pleased, and turned back to the story.
She was the second daughter of Elrond Halfelven, the younger and the prettier. Her sister Arwen was only interested in staying home and dreaming about marrying a King someday. But Amaryllis was truly concerned for the fate of Middle-earth, and she would follow Frodo and Sam to Mordor. She should really have been sent with the Ring in the first place, she considered. The Ring had no power over her.
Morgoth looked up again, annoyed. Was he going to have to coax his opponent every step of the way? Why couldn't Maglor just be quiet and let him win? He knew Amaryllis would win; he had planned carefully, so that there was no reality in Middle-earth to catch her. "Yes?" he snarled.
"I thought no one could resist the Ring," said Maglor.
"Yes, that's right," said a voice from behind Morgoth.
"Do shut up, Sauron," said Morgoth absently, staring at Amaryllis. He would have to work in some description of her hair and eyes, he decided; it was essential. "Do you want to cause evil and untold chaos in Middle-earth or not?"
Silence. Sauron was probably off sulking somewhere, Morgoth thought. He smiled at Maglor and returned to the story.
The Ring had no power over her. Amaryllis was gracious and pure of heart, and strong enough in herself to throw off her father's concerns. And if she could resist her father wanting her to be a lady, then she could do anything.
"What has my foster-son become?" Maglor asked, sounding shocked. "He would have restrained his daughter from doing what she wanted to do?"
Morgoth glared at him. "This is all part of the game."
"Did Elrond restrain Arwen?" Maglor persisted.
"I have no idea," said Morgoth in irritation. "I really couldn't care less how those two conduct their lives of flouncing and sighing and healing hobbits. Can we just get on with the game?"
Maglor folded his arms and glared. Morgoth snorted. It wasn't up to his standards, but at least his enemy was trying.
"I don't know, Sam." The voice was hoarse with exhaustion. Amaryllis rolled her eyes and sped her pace.
"We're lost, then, Master Frodo."
"No, you're not," Amaryllis announced, stepping out from behind a rock.
The hobbits gazed on her in astonishment. Her beauty nearly blinded them. After all, she had bright violet eyes that shone like the light of Eärendil, and long silver hair that might have recalled to them the light of Telperion, had either of them ever seen such a thing.
"Surely her Teleri blood would be too distant to give her such silver hair," Maglor said mildly.
Morgoth scowled at him. His enemy was up to something. "This is a Sue story. It really doesn't matter. She can have all the silver hair and violet eyes she wants. Unless you can think of a way that Elwë would suddenly pop out from behind a rock and kill her...?"
"Tempting, but no," Maglor muttered. "I have a better idea."
Morgoth laughed at him and turned back to Amaryllis.
Sam spoke first. "Who are you, my lady?"
"Amaryllis Silverhawk, daughter of Lord Halfelven," said Amaryllis. "And you've lost your way, haven't you?"
Both hobbits bobbed their heads sheepishly.
Amaryllis rolled her eyes. "Never send a hobbit to do an elf's job," she said. "Or a man to do a woman's job, either. Come on. I know the way to the Fiery Mountain." She turned and led them across the peaks, ignoring their complaints about their feet hurting. Stupid hobbits. There was only so much she could take of them. She would take the Ring, she decided, and make her own way to Orodruin tonight.
Morgoth heard a slight sound, and looked up. Maglor was whistling, leaning back against his chair and tapping his hand on the table.
"What are you doing?" Morgoth snapped.
Maglor winked at him and sang aloud.
"Oh, he'll be chained up in Mandos when Eru comes,
When He comes!
He'll be chained up in Mandos when Eru comes,
When He comes!
He'll be chained up in Mandos, he'll be chained up in Mandos,
He'll be chained up in Mandos when Eru comes!"
"That is annoying," said Morgoth.
"Not as annoying as your Sue," Maglor said, and smiled sweetly. "Aren't you going to play?"
Morgoth snorted and went back to playing, but his mind was thinking, uneasily now, that Maglor was indeed a Fëanorian.
Amaryllis sighed as she gazed down at Frodo. She knew he was brave, to volunteer to carry the Ring so far, but only an Elf could do this, and only a woman. She had heard a prophecy from her mother that proclaimed it. Of course, her father and the other men denied it, but they were just wrong.
She touched the chain of the Ring around Frodo's neck.
Abruptly, she heard the most awful sound behind her, and before she could turn, a pair of hands grabbed her neck. They began to squeeze the life out of Amaryllis, while a voice hissed in her ear, "It wantss to touch the Preciousss? We showss it whats it's missing, yes Precious!"
"Gollum," said Morgoth heavily.
"You forgot about him," said Maglor, buffing his nails on his tunic and looking at them. "You always forget about something."
"Well, anyway," said Morgoth, "that's the round done, and-"
"Not quite yet," said Maglor.
"What do you mean?" Morgoth asked warily.
"She's not dead yet."
Amaryllis tore at the hands that gripped her, but she had wasted too much of her strength in thinking she was better-
-and didn't have the strength to dislodge the little creature. She fell to the ground, her head ringing, and died in the midst of muttering about the Precious. Then, while her body was still warm, Gollum dragged it away and dug into it to begin eating.
"All right." Morgoth clapped his hands over his ears.
She had used her muscles quite a lot, so was tough and gamy, but the heart was healthy and tasted rather good.
Morgoth waited, then cautiously lifted his hands off his ears.
Then Gollum wiped the blood from his lips and went back to the Ring.
"All right, all right, you win," said Morgoth in frustration. "I thought you needed counseling of some sort, not this bloody game."
Maglor grinned, stood, and called, "Father! It worked!"
Morgoth ducked behind the gaming table as Fëanor appeared next to Maglor. "Good," he heard Fëanor's voice say. "I wondered if we could make Morgoth look like a fool in a new and varied way."
Morgoth wanted to poke his head up and say something, but he was too busy crowding Sauron for space under the table.
"Maglor?" Varda's voice asked.
"Later," said Maglor.
"Not much later," said Fëanor, and when Morgoth looked up, both of them were gone.
Shaking, he sat down and watched Varda come back to the gaming table. He had dared to hope it might be over, but then he took a good look at the Valië. Her face was pale, telling him she probably didn't have good news.
Abruptly, Tulkas and Ulmo marched out of the nowhere and stood behind Morgoth. He glanced at them uneasily, then glared at Varda. "What'd I do?"
"Not you," said Varda. "They're your bodyguards. I'm afraid there was, ah- a security problem in Mandos."
"A security problem?" Morgoth repeated faintly.
"Yes." Varda licked her lips. "It looks like Fëanor didn't have time to free everyone he wanted to free, but Maedhros is out. And- I really don't know how he did this, since he shouldn't even have known where the Men were..."
"Yes?" said Morgoth tensely.
"He somehow sneaked Túrin back into the world, too."
Sauron had to move hastily out of the way as Morgoth fainted.
Most soft-hearted of the sons of Fëanor.