Warning: This is a parody. It is not to be taken at all seriously. No offense is meant, and besides I'm mostly making fun of myself.
And it is almost definitely the worst story I've ever written. I'm only posting it because we need things to laugh at right now. It was written in response to a Silmfics challenge, and is posted here by request. If it offends people I'll take it down.
The Adventures of Sister Mary Susan, SJ
Sister Mary Susan, SJ, usually known as Mary-sue, was a quiet girl, plain but pious. Well, at least pious to all appearances; few knew that often during prayer her mind wandered to the latest Silmarillion-based slashfic that she was writing for the Silmfics group. As is inevitable, one day she fell into her computer. This did not surprise her in the least. She was well aware that names must reflect destiny, and that therefore she was a Mary-sue. So she resolved to save the world, and especially all the most attractive male Elves.
First she went to a desolate fortress and found a one-handed red-haired Elven warrior, who was just as handsome as she had always imagined him to be. He was despondent, and waved his sword exhaustedly. "What makes you so sad?" she asked him.
"It is my vow," Maedhros said. "I have to start a terrible war against Doriath that is going to kill thousands of Elves, and if I don't Eru is going to damn me to everlasting darkness."
"I see," said Sister Mary. "Now let me ask: do you believe that the All-Father wanted you to make that vow?"
"No," said Maedhros miserably. "It was a terrible vow."
"Then this is what you must do," she said. "Vow that you will never go to the everlasting darkness. If Eru is more powerful than vows, surely he will annul your first vow since it is against his will. If vows are more powerful, then your second vow will keep you from the punishment of the first."
Maedhros thought about it for a moment. "I hadn't thought of that," he said.
Sister Mary thought to stay and have him fall in love with her, but she had vows of her own and besides generally preferred slash, so she moved on. Ignoring both geography and chronology, she went to find Maglor wandering on the coast.
Maglor was singing a mournful song of lamentation that nevertheless was so beautiful to listen to that she did not want it to end. But he noticed her, and stopped. So she asked him, "What is it that troubles you, that makes you sing so sadly?"
"I have committed a crime so terrible I cannot be forgiven," Maglor said.
"I see," said Sister Mary. "You are worse than Morgoth, then?"
"What!" Maglor exclaimed.
"Morgoth. You know, the one who stole the light of the trees, twisted your kin into Orcs, killed your grandfather and instructed the Balrog who killed your father. You are worse than him."
Maglor glared at her.
"Manwe forgave him once already, as you recall. So if you are not worse than him, then you can also be forgiven."
Maglor thought about that for a while. The he built a boat, and Sister Mary waved happily to him as he sailed off to Valinor.
Next Sister Mary went to look for Finrod. She found him with a frown that in no way tarnished his golden beauty, scowling into a book. "And what disturbs you?" she asked.
"I've been talking to my friend Andreth," he said, "and I think we figured out the way for the world not to be overwhelmed by the corruption that Morgoth has introduced. Eru has to be born into the world, in the shape of a mortal. But I am sad, because I don't know if it will happen. And even if it does, it will be for mortals only, and not for my people."
"Oh, don't be sad," said Sister Mary. "I can tell you that this is exactly what happens. And that he brings healing not only to those who come after him, but also to his ancestors. All of them," she emphasized.
"Oh," said Finrod. "Then it is very important that human-Elf marriages take place."
"Yes it is," Sister Mary said.
"I should tell that to my brother," said Finrod.
"Yes you should," said Sister Mary.
After Finrod ran off towards Dorthonion muttering something about high purposes of doom, Sister Mary decided to get down to the serious business of saving the world. So she went to Angband to see Morgoth. She was not in the least daunted by the difficulties of the journey, for as a Mary-sue she experienced none. When she arrived, she was delighted to find that she had become more beautiful than Luthien, and that her voice was as sweet. So she sang for Morgoth, and tried not to enjoy too much the way he looked at her as she sang.
"You are so beautiful," Morgoth said. "I love you."
"I see," said Sister Mary. "Now, if you love me because I am beautiful, does that mean that if you found something more beautiful than me you would love it more?"
"There is nothing more beautiful than you," Morgoth said.
"But what if there were? Just for the sake of argument."
Morgoth looked confused. "I guess," he said.
"And now," she went on, "tell me what is greater, the creator, or that which is created?"
"The destroyer," Morgoth sounded much more confident.
"Alright. But between the two."
"Well then," she said, "surely the one you truly love is Eru the All-Father who has created me, and who contains all beauty. And surely because of your great love he will forgive you."
Morgoth thought about that. "I think you're right," he said, and suddenly he wasn't Morgoth anymore.
Since Mary-sue writers so rarely finish their stories, Sister Mary was at a loss as to what to do next. So she wandered out and looked over Beleriand, and saw the wide open spaces, the endless forests, the deep, flowing rivers, the brave kingdoms made and the ones to come.
It looked like an excellent place for a theology school.