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When the paladins come marching in

Summary:

The hero always wins, the evil is always defeated, the world is always saved — except when things go a little bit sideways. Here, Morgoth warred directly, without Sauron, and won. After millennia of self-indulgent evil, he grew bored and cast his eye to other worlds. Enter Rick Grimes.

This is a serial zombie apocalypse drama in a Middle Earth AU, with no winning in sight. “Complete” doesn't/can't apply here.

Update 15 Jul 2023: Focused on other works, burned out Dec 2020, got my mojo back, knocked out a few other WIPs, returned to this Grimes in Middle Earth crossover (to make up for delay, see the footnote at end listing 22 sources of legally free RPG materials); took break 1Q22 to finish Peach/Zelda & Sonic. Spending 2023 on a year-long 24/7 multivariate deep-dive of AO3 traffic.
NOT ABANDONED; more to come >Feb/Mar 2024!

I read, appreciate, and reply to all comments: they're always welcome!

𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆, 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒖𝒃𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒆! ❤️

Notes:

For ease of reference, please see Bramblebury Gazette's copy of Tom Maringer's “Postal Map” (1991, ed. 6.1) of the Shire (a display with a Cynthiana-centered Kentucky for comparison and contrast is in ch. 6 footnote 3). Let me know if you find a more updated hi-res version! 🙂


As far as Rick's TWD adventures go, he's not off of the hook here, just stuck in another world to compound things. We join him in chapter 2, when a doctor who had taken him in is called away for an emergency. Things unravel quickly, but the upshot is predictable; different crew, same problem: survive — except that now it's without knowing how to get home, or that Earth (and Lori, Carl, and Shane) is crawling with zombies. There is no mission to kill a dragon or destroy a ring, just an ongoing zombocalypse serial of kill, run, hide, rinse and repeat, maybe find some Elven magic to cure the plague or a Dwarven hall of stone in which to weather the ravenous siege.

Elizabeth Bennett (PPZ) comes in after a few chapters.

The date is equivalent to the start of the Hobbit, but in a world with a radically different history, as changed by Morgoth since some point in the Years of the Sun (before the First Age) of the Silmarillion, with some Lord of the Rings grimdark elements present. The virus behind Earth's plague is just beginning to ramp up here, no magical cause behind the zombies, but Rick's presence could be attributed to supernatural powers; Morgoth's palantír (or palantir, if you prefer) is technological just like all palantíri, though it likely uses energies and techniques as advanced as those of Krypton (DC), and incorporates the merged science/magic tech approach of Asgard (Marvel Comics/MCU, not Norse mythology).

The material in chapter 4 (on top of chapter 2) has me thinking that I might need to tag this for Food Porn (lots of food named specifically, lavish descriptions, etc.); I don't think that it's a sufficient element as yet, but suspect that it might become so over time.

Morgoth isn't referred to explicitly by name in the first chapter, being called only “It”, a being of pure evil energy, but it occurred to me belatedly that this might be a poor choice of name, given Stephen King's “IT” / Pennywise (nor the “IT” of “A wrinkle in time” per The Film Theorists [nor Mary Poppins, to take things a step further with one of their earlier conjectures]); they certainly could be the same being in my story-verse, but very definitely aren't (not here, anyway, though surely it's also true that they are in an infinite number of other iterations). This might seem a redundant point to have brought up, but my fics tend to cross a lot of territory, especially considering that they're ultimately all interlinked as a larger whole. Then, rather later, the ideas coalesced, and It became Morgoth. I could have simply renamed him here, but that idea felt disingenuous: It wasn't originally designed to be Morgoth, but in embodying something of the same sort, this scene felt right to become the opening chapter (prologue, really) once the crossover idea hit me.

On a tangent, Morgoth (and any number of other LotR characters) is somewhat of a powerful entity; for a semi-related study of scaling characters' relative power levels in writing and games, please see “Superheroes: Powers and Principalities  ”.


NB: For a fonts tutorial, e.g.: Rick's handwritten note, please see Fonts, and colors, and work skins, oh my!.


Also: my apologies for having taken a while to get back to this one, but “The Dimmendark  ” (a 2e D&D story) and “In for an Amy, in for a Pond  ” (Doctor Who) held a stronger sway, so I had to finish those first. Given the schedule, I'll be making pit stops for a Sonic & Zelda / Peach Halloween special, and a Red Dwarf Christmas, but those won't get in the way of this Grimes-in-Middle-Earth tale or the “When Hermione met Harry  ” smut-fic (seriously: don't click that unless you really mean to; it has some fun crack-fic world-building in it, and some slice-of-life scenes and a romance theme... but it's absolutely definitely explicit material).

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: A new First Age

Summary:

Before what would have been the First Age, nearly seven millennia ago, things take a different turn, and Arda as we know it follows a far more sinister path.

Notes:

For this fic, and really all of my stories, keep in mind something like Asimov's laws of Robotics, or perhaps psychohistory boiled down to two rules of thumb:

RULE:  Any world (no matter how improbable) in a spatiotemporally infinite rule-based random universe is virtually certain to exist (merely occupying a smaller portion of phase space).
 
Corollary:  Any world that someone thinks is “cool,” given sufficiently advanced means of production, is virtually certain to be produced.


 

Chapter Text

It wouldn't win this time, not in any ultimate and final way, not in the balance of all others being vanquished or crushed beneath Its heel.  It knew this, but nor yet would it lose in just such a final fashion.

This cycle was to be only yet another of the many that had so far preceded, of like and kind to those many more that It could yet foresee.

As the paladin strode confidently to the gate, his honor guard warily in tow, the minion beasts gave way.

He sought to speak with It, perhaps to issue challenge if conference availed him not.

Standing there now to face It, he looked aside from the tangible force of Its radiance.

He was a good man, honest, though not without fault.  He knew this, and yet in all humility understood these faults in himself as he would those in others.

These faults mattered not, nor would their absence.

Reaching forth, It bestowed a sweeping charge into him, a molten, electrifying acid that washed over him throughout, washing away all that he had been, so that now he was remade as if he were It incarnate.

He was the seventh of this ilk, and the last to be so transformed.

The cycle was now complete, and a wave of destruction would cover the land for a time.

It wouldn't win, no, but that wasn't the point.  The suffering that It would so cause was the sole sweetness to be had, the glory to be reveled in, until a new cycle arose.

 

 

O ~~~ O