#silmarillion fic

[doodle-pops]

Turn Back the Sands of Time

Feanor x daughter!reader

Request: Can I request a fic for Feanor, coming back to Valinor after hia death, finding out Nerdanel had been pregnant when he left and she gave birth to a daughter. And if possible, this daughter has Miriel's sewing gift. – anon

A/N: I took a different route to how their interaction would occur and made this quite sentimental than I intended :)

Warnings: female reader, soft angst, softness and comfort, reconciliation

Words: 2.4k

Synopsis: With the return of your father to the Blessed Realm, an attempt at rekindling what was never forged, is pursued.

“Leaving so early?”

Your mother’s voice reverberated through the morning air, clear yet carrying a stern undertone. The sun had ascended over the hills and forest, casting its benevolent warmth upon the damp, fertile earth, coaxing the crawlies to retreat to their hidden abodes.

Startled by her sudden intrusion, you jerked in surprise, twisting your neck to find your mother positioned in the doorway. Her hands firmly rested on her hips, already adorned with small flecks of clay and dust. A hasty bun confined her hair, and she wore the familiar work coveralls that marked her dedication to the tasks at hand. “Oh, you gave me a fright!” you awkwardly chuckled, your attention momentarily diverted from the contents of your basket. “I’m... heading out.”

Her bare feet made no sound on the polished floorings as she traversed the distance, positioning herself beside you. With keen observation, she watched as you hastened your packaging, attempting to conceal the contents within the basket. Despite your efforts, you weren’t as clever as you believed. However, she remained silent, extending her left hand to rest against your waist. Leaning in, she placed a tender kiss on your cheek.

“At least be safe on the road. You can borrow a few of my cloaks, they’ll keep you warm, and good luck. I cannot tell you how to decide, but when you do, know that it is something you will have to live with.”

Suddenly, she vanished through the backdoor, setting you on the arduous path to Formenos after brief stops at Tirion’s market to procure supplies. Pastries, breads, salted meats, and fruits were gathered in an attempt to ease any potential awkwardness.

Alone on the road for five days, you revisited regions where you had once stealthily ventured. The surroundings were steeped in familiarity as you leisurely strolled by. The rhythmic clopping of your horse’s hooves on the gravelled road, the subtle rustling of trees and bushes, vast open fields where the wind hummed its tune, and the delightful symphony of birdsong and frog croaks accompanied your journey. Small creatures scurried at the feet of your horse, some perching on your shoulders or head. Nightfall descended, only to be swiftly replaced by the break of day, marking the conclusion of your expedition.

As you arrived at your destination, the wear and tear on the landscape became evident. Paint had faded, stones were missing from pillars and posts, wood showed signs of decay, and windows lay shattered. Face-to-face with the relentless march of time and the scars of neglect, you confronted the tangible evidence of one’s transgressions.

Dismounting from your majestic stallion, you carefully secured him to an apple tree before continuing on foot. The path led you through a gateway and into a garden adorned with a subtle array of colours—some signs of life still blossoming. Your keen eyes noticed the adjustments since your last visit, becoming attuned to the intense presence and weight that the surroundings now bore.

With each step, the gravel and dust beneath your sandals resonated against the cobblestone, creating a symphony of soft crunches until you abruptly halted before the colossal red door, proudly displaying the house sigil in shimmering gold. Tightening your grip on the basket and assuming a more composed posture, a sense of tension gripped your throat, akin to barbed wires constricting around it.

Summoning your courage, you knocked on the door, the sound echoing three times in tandem with the palpitations of your heart.

Initially, it seemed like no one was home, but an imposing presence lingered in the air, prompting you to raise your hand for another attempt. However, before your knuckles could make contact, the hinges groaned, and a towering figure emerged. A giant of an elf with fiery red hair and silvery eyes loomed before you, meeting your tentative gaze. While a hunch suggested his identity, he was not the person you had come to meet. An acute observation of his appearance left you trembling at your core.

His features were the same as the portraits hung in your mother’s workshop, a stark difference to the descriptions your uncle Arafinwë explained. There were no scars, missing ligament or whitening of his hair, but it was still enough to elicit fright in your bones. The stories were enough, running their course to remind all of his actions.

“No trespassing, this is private property. Whatever business you are conducting, take it elsewhere,” he muttered under his breath with emptiness in his eyes before shuffling to slam the door in your face.

Luckily, you stuck your hand out. “Wait, please don’t! I uh…” you fumbled and exhaled, “I came to speak with Lord Fëanáro. Is he in?”

“If you are here to lay blame on him for his actions, I would suggest that you get in line—”

Waving your hands frantically in his face, you panicked. “No, no, no, no! You have it all wrong. I’m not here for that; I’m here to simply speak with him.”

“Speak with him?” Maedhros meditated. “Did King Arafinwë send you?”

Your eyes widened in disbelief at the surprising intensity with which your own brother reacted to your simple desire to speak with his father. It was truly perplexing that, despite all that had transpired, he continued to share living quarters with Fëanáro. Your assumption that their relationship had soured after recent events was swiftly proven incorrect.

Clearly, his perspectives on Fëanáro differed significantly from yours, and he held personal convictions that he preferred to keep to himself. The intricacies of their business remained shrouded in mystery.

“Uncl—King Arafinwë did not send me, I sent myself,” you stated with pride, straightening out any fears in your posture and stretching a confident smile across your lips. “Can you tell him that a…a Lady Y/N is here to speak with him?”

The moment your name fell past your lips, you saw the micro-expression of your brother’s eyes widening before composing themselves. His stance changed from no longer blocking the entire doorway to standing aside and granting you a peek inside. You were half expecting him to make a scene, yet he proved otherwise.

Maedhros’ eyes fluttered and flickered around your frame, contemplating on his next decision. Exhaling, he stepped outside, shutting the door behind and ushered around you figure to the left of the house. “He’s situated on this side of the house. It’s quicker and less…obstructive. Follow me.” And you partially understood what he meant—the bloodstains from where your grandfather was slain, still staining the floors. However, it was the unwarranted meet-and-greet of the rest of your brothers.

You weren’t here for them, and Maedhros was kind enough to spare you.

The journey unfolded in a discomforting silence, compelling you to tighten your grip on the basket as the minutes passed. Your elder brother guided you through a labyrinth of twists and turns, eventually leading to the distant sounds of a babbling stream and the faint rustling of paper being crumpled. As you approached an archway, entwined and covered in an overgrowth of vines, the scene unfolded before you—Fëanáro, seated on a bench, holding a charcoal, and engrossed in fervent scribbling on parchment, an expression of exasperation etched across his features.

Despite the openness of the surroundings, the air felt stifling. The heavens above offered a solution to wash away the lingering muskiness, and yet, it persisted. How could anyone discover peace or find reprieve in such conditions?

“I’ll leave you to speak with him.” He offered a polite smile, and with a bow of his head, Maedhros departed, leaving you to face his father in privacy.

Acknowledging the bow with a graceful return, you redirected your attention towards the man seated on the weathered wooden bench. His appearance had undergone a noticeable transformation since your initial encounter—his once neatly tied hair now cascaded loosely, and his attire, less polished, resembled something reminiscent of what your mother wore when she was in her element. Absent were the ornate rings that had adorned his fingers, and there was a notable absence of any jewellery embellishing his clothing. In this particular moment, he existed simply as Fëanáro, the man who had seemingly returned from the realm of the deceased. The elf who had…

“How long will you linger in the shadows, child?” came his soft voice. It was much mellow that the confrontation shared with your mother.

Taking a large gulp of air, you crossed the archway, entered his space to stand at the entrance and called out. “Greetings Lord Fëanáro.”

A resounding cry escaped his lips the moment his eyes fell upon your timid figure. Joy and agony intertwined in his heart as he realized that his child had come to visit him. With a swift, almost spring-like motion, he abandoned his seat, forgetting the letter that lay there, and hurried over to stand before your magnificence. It was the first time he had a clear image of the daughter he had denied himself the knowledge of. In your features, he saw not just you but also your mother and the reflection of his eldest.

An intense yearning surged within him, a desire to reach out and grasp you, to finally experience the touch of a creation that bore no marks of his mistakes. However, hesitation gripped his mind, as the unexpected loomed overhead like ominous clouds threatening to unleash a storm. The uncertainty lingered, questioning whether the rain would be cold or warm, if it would bring wrath or peace—or perhaps an outburst of everything.

“You…” He laughed breathlessly with disbelief at the tip of his tongue. “You’re all grown up. I was told about you during my return, unsure if a meeting would occur. I had glimpsed you at your mother’s, hoping to be acquainted. Unfortunately, I had not been blessed.”

“Hm, I decided to come see you on my own after…” your voice trailed off, indicating his reunion with your mother. “Well, she had the inclination that I was coming to see you, yet she did not stop me. I wanted to hear from you on my own.”

His facial muscles engaged in a silent struggle, battling the instinct to react to every nuance of your words. His hands, twitching with the desire to pull you into a comforting embrace, held back, understanding that such a gesture might inflict more harm than healing. Your perceptions of him were coloured by his transgressions. You possessed ample reasons to maintain a distance, not just from him, but also from your own brothers.

“What is there for me to tell you when you are aware of everything, my child?” he responded with reservation.

“Why?”

Your question lingered in the air, a stain that defied any attempts at removal; not even the heavens’ rain could cleanse it.

One question. Millions of reasons. One answer, and yet, he chose to walk away with his back turned and head hung in shame. His body collided with the bench with his head in his hands facing the floor.

“What answer might I give to you that would satisfy your perspective of me?” he uttered. “You’ve heard it all; I chose the Silmarils over my family… Why you ask? Pride, maybe arrogance or my blind foolishness. I led my children into death and one by one I watched them succumb to the same madness as me.”

“But you have me who was spared from the doom. I exist, someone you can change for. Someone who can be the answer to why.” Were the words wanting to spill from your lips, however, now was not the time. There was much to be possibly kindled to know how much your words weighed.

Stepping closer to where he sat hunched, you placed the basket beside him and knelt. Your hands were hesitant to touch his, but you managed to pry them off his face. “You know, there’s a saying that ammë says,” you whispered akin to the wind, “it’s something along the lines of, ‘second chances don’t come around often, but when they do, they appear in mysterious ways. It’s only if you desire it, then possibilities will arise’. If you want forgiveness, you can start with me. Show me the you who wants better.”

Fëanáro lifted his head, his mismatch teary eyes locking on your compassionate ones. He was stunned at your sympathy when his wife would not spare him the chance. If only he had not been so foolish, the family he desired would have existed before his very eyes. “You do not truly mean your words? Your mother would not pardon me—”

“I am not ammë; your quarrel with her is between you both. I am Y/N and this is between us. I choose to try building this relationship so long as you work with me,” you corrected with confidence laced in your voice. Your eyes were stern, filled with assertiveness and the reflection of faces you’d never met. “You have to want this.”

He considered with sorrowful eyes, too fearful of repeating his past and ruining his last blessing. With deliberate actions, he shifted to sit upright and meet you head-on. “Then I make no promises...no oaths.”

“Good, because I was prepared to convince you anyway possible since I brought treats for us to indulge, and I would hate for them to waste.” Your eyes darted to the basket filled with delicacies for you both to snack on during your formal meet-and-greet. “Imagine how awkward it would be had you rejected, and I had to return with a filled basket of treats.”

“You could have left it with your brothers. I’m sure they would be thrilled to learn their sister brought treats for them.” Fëanáro felt a surge of pride at the flow of your interactions, lacking awkwardness and tension. It gave him a sense of purpose to understand that all good things were not lost.

Though his refusal to utter the words of “Thanks” remained in his heart, for he knew Eru had heard and seen his gratitude.

Snickering as you reached for the basket to produce a blanket, you threw him a whimsical side eye. “I doubt that. You should have seen how the giant redhead was staring at me. I thought I was about to be thrown like a javelin out the yard,” you giggled.

“Maitimo?”

“Ay, I thought he was going to toss me out! Though it seems that the others are here as well?”

“Would you be willing to meet them?”

“Maybe another time, I only came with enough energy to deal with you.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @ladyenchanted @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @hermaeuswhora

[leucisticpuffin]

coirë | a stirring

“Thou callest this season beautiful,” he said one morning, watching shadows shift through the canvas as an attendant cleared the doorway of snow. “Forgive me, but I cannot see it.” “But thou hast seen it not,” protested Findekáno, setting aside his mortar and pestle. (The skill of preparing medicines he had picked up in the fearful days of the last winter, needing desperately to be useful, and yet unable to look at the wound wrought by his own hand.) “Not everywhere is so grey! Come, Russandol; I shall show thee why we name it so.”

Read the whole story on AO3

[niennawept]

Warning(s): None Rating: Gen Summary: The origins of moon dumplings, shared amongst all branches of elven kindred, are a source of frequent arguments, both culinary and scholarly.

An annotated copy of a recipe book from Nargothrond before its fall

To make moon dumplings:

A short time before moonrise, take a good amount of ground corn (as was the gift of the Valar for the Great Journey) and by gradations, add to it enough water to make a fine dough. Knead this with your hands until it is well combined. Allow the dough to rest under the light of Tilion’s full face for a time.[1] Knead the dough afterward until it is smooth. Allow this to rest again until the moon’s face is the breadth of one finger above the horizon and the dough feels as soft as a fawn’s ear. Divide the dough into four parts. Keeping one out, cover the others with a dark cloth so that they absorb no more light.

Pluck a piece of dough from the ball that is as wide as a thumb from tip to first joint. Flatten this to a disc and then, roll it flat with a pin using more ground corn to prevent the moon dough sticking. Place a good amount of filling[2] on top and carefully pleat the edges shut, using water if necessary to seal. The finished dumpling should be the shape of a crescent moon.

[1] The amount of time for the first resting of the dough is a matter of heated debate among the various branches of elvenkind. While the Exilic Noldor say that it can rest no longer than seven minutes, Vanyar sources claim that precisely fourteen minutes is optimal, in honor of the Valar themselves. The Teleri and Sindar agree that the dough can rest for up to ten minutes, but disagree on the manner by which the time to knead again is decided. The Teleri say that it should be done once the surface of the dough has a pearlescent sheen to it; the Sindar say it must be done when a cloud breaks the moon’s gaze or the full time has elapsed, whichever comes first. The Nandor are an outlier, who claim that dough for moon dumplings is only ready after twenty full minutes at rest. Notably, all of the other groups agree that this is too long of an exposure and produces a tough dough with an overwhelming flavor.

[2] The source declines to describe what manner of filling should be used, and consequently, the original filling is also a matter of intense research. During the early part of the Second Age, the scholar, Díril of Lindon, undertook a lengthy project, traveling across Middle-earth and even into the East to interview elves who could remember when moon dumplings first arose within their communities. This undertaking did not result in consensus.

For @silmarillionepistolary week

[meadowlarkx]

moodboard for my post-canon reunion fic amendation

He looks again. He sees hair red as sea-beech fronds, scooped practically behind one shoulder. Maedhros straightens one precariously-balanced skewer with his left hand. His right reaches to steady the other.

Maglor feels weak—ephemeral, as though he might slip away, fading at last in truth and finally. Maybe he already has.

[eccentricmya]

Kinslayer in truth

In Valinor, the Silmarils used to be a mirror of his father's spirit—intense, in both brightness and warmth, attracting attention to the point of coercion.

In Morgoth's crown, they had felt akin to ice held too long in one's palms—a cold and cruel fire, blinding one into submission, or so his rescued brother had claimed.

In Maglor's own hand, the lone Silmaril was that and more. The moment he grasped it, a fey spell seemed to bewitch his senses. His vision was overtaken by images of fire and blood, his ears ringing with the wails of wraiths unseen. And his fëa was set ablaze with a fire so consuming that it devoured Maglor's sense of self. Amidst the agony that held him captive, he yet knew that it was an inferno of his own making. A long-swelling storm of his guilt, come to claim him at last for the willing sins he had committed on the road to his own damnation.

The Silmaril, Maglor found, was indeed a mirror, merely not of Fëanor's spirit alone, but of anyone who bore it. Once upon a time—which he could scarce believed he had lived through—in blessed Aman sheltered by the collective might of the Ainur, the gem might have echoed a song of blissful joy in his hands. But in broken Arda, marred at the hands of one Vala, the howling of death was the only refrain to be heard, rattling through the hand that clutched the accursed jewel, up his arm, into his throat and out his mouth. His screams of anguish blended well with the symphony of the slain, the crescendo creating a mockery of the lament he was most known for.

His greatest accomplishment, surpassed by his gravest sin.

Read it in full on AO3 here

[annab99awritersdream]

The Herald of Manwë & the Lady of Ithilien

Art by @drawulan 💕

Please head over to AO3 and check out my LOTR/Silmarillion fic The Lady of Ithilien by @annab99awritersdream (me, myself & I). Feedback is much appreciated. Thank you! 😊

[istaricelebelasse]

Fingolfin does not die.

He lies bruised and broken in the mud. He watches the hammer above his head and he smiles. Perhaps he will see Anaire again.

The light on Morgoth’s brow grows brighter. A faint voice starts to taunt him. A familiar voice.

His brother’s voice.

It urges him to move. To roll away from the hammer. To live.

He never liked listening to his brother, but he did promise to follow him wherever he would lead.

Fingolfin moves.

The hammer strikes the mud.

And the cry of an Eagle fills his ears.

[elennalore]

For @manweweek Day 7: Freeform, I have written a second chapter for my fic Feathers and Friends. The second chapter can be read as a one-shot, and it's inspired by the original S&D moodboard and prompt by @thedaughterofshadows (link in fic).

Fic: Feathers and Friends, Chapter 2: Eagles (2983 words, Rating: T)

Characters: Manwë Súlimo, Thorondor, Maedhros, Fingon, Gwaihir, Aulë

Summary: Manwë spends a day in Valinor with his eagle friends, but thanks to the recklessness of certain re-embodied Noldor, everything doesn’t go as planned.

Read it on Ao3

[silmawensgarden]

Only an ocean away

Maglor x reader

Prompt: Sending you a request for Maglor x reader where reader finally brings him home from his millenia of wanderings on the shore? (Home could be to Rivendell or Valinor or where you think would fir best!)

Requested by: anonymous

A/n: I really liked this idea of coaxing Maglor back home to Valinor through Rivendell. I decided on a chance encounter for reader & Maglor. I really hope you enjoy it and thanks so much for your request!

Word count : 1,8k

Warnings: none really

Today was a strange day, there was something in the air that felt heavy and familiar at the same time. Nevertheless you continued on your way back towards Rivendell. You had gone out for a few days to collect herbs in the nearby forest. The evil of Sauron had been subdued a small while ago. A small while for elves that is. The forest had once been filled with horrid creatures, nowadays surprisingly some incredibly rare herbs grew there. Despite some dangers from the remaining wild animals, the trek through was worth it. Your heart felt heavy at some point on your way back so you decided to change direction for a little while. Making your way towards the sea shore you finally felt yourself relax a little. It's been a while since you came here. The salty air reminded you of your home far away. Your home was in Valinor, not far from the shore. In your youth you used to come to the sea shore to play with your friends. The salty air made your heart yearn for those days with your friends.

You sat down by some rocks on the shore. The sand on this beach wasn't nearly as pearly white and gem like as in valinor, but it has it's own beauty. You've come to see Rivendell and it's surrounding environment as your second home. Out of nowhere a strange creaky sound came from behind you. Your breath hitched and you carefully turned around, ready to fight off whatever might be preying on you. However when you looked behind you, you saw nothing. You looked around with a confused look on your face. Then the sound came again. This time you saw something scuttle away into a cave. The last bit you managed to see was something that looked like torn clothes. Your curiosity got the better of you and you slowly moved towards where you had seen the muddy red cloth.

As you stepped forward behind the rock you sat on you saw a crude little cave hewn into the rock formation further back. It looked like something moved in there. It could be a child... you thought. In that case it might've been lost for some time judging by the poor condition of the piece of cloth you saw. You walked closer to the cave to inspect whether you were right. Just before you managed to get to the entrance an incredibly hoarse and creaky voice shrieked at you from inside. You could still manage to understand that it was likely a male, but nothing else. Taking up all your courage you stepped into the cave entrance and were met with a rusty dagger in front of your face. Behind the dagger sat what appeared to be a malnourished and traumatised elf. The elf had no strength left in him as even trying to keep the dagger pointed at you cost him so much energy that his arm was shaking uncontrollably. He had dark eyebags under his incredibly blue eyes and his features were sunken. You caught a few scars on his arms while you took in his appearance.

You wanted to get him out of the cave and maybe even manage to get him some help in Rivendell. Poor man has been through it it seems. You decided to sit down and see if he understood any language you knew.

You tried Sindarin first, he seemed to respond to it but did not speak it. Instead he spoke back to you in a mix of what you could only guess was first age Quenya. At this point you regrettably had to thank your tutors from when you were young for forcing you to sit through Quenyan literature classes. Seeing no other option besides attempting to speak to him in Quenya you gave it your best shot.

"Hello?...Not fear me, I am friend, not bad. Who are you?" You managed to wrangle out some poorly formulated sentences. The grammar would have sent your old tutor in to a shock induced coma if he had heard it. It appeared to be the same for this elf. The expression on his sunken face couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than displeasure. So much for trying to be nice...

However despite his initial displeasure he decided to attempt to speak to you. You were having an awful amount of trouble understanding him. Not just because he was barely audible but also because you had slept through most of your literature classes. He spoke with a specific dialect that you couldn't place. Seeing how much trouble you were having he gave you a small smile and started speaking to you like you were a small child. Word for word, to see if you understood.

Now you felt like it was you who had been hiding in that crude little excuse of a cave.

After a little while of throwing words around with each other he had calmed down enough to understand that you weren’t going to hurt him. Slowly he came out of his cave and stood in front of you. It was immediately clear to you that this elf was much taller than you. By quite a considerable amount. It was a mystery to you how he managed to fit into that tiny space.

The two of you made your way back to Rivendell together. Walking slowly and taking many breaks as it appeared that your new companion could not walk very far for very long periods of time. He was so malnourished that his legs gave out frequently during the journey back.  During the journey you got to know each other better. The language barrier was still a big problem but you found creative ways to communicate with each other regardless.

After a full two and a half days of walking you finally arrived in Rivendell. You now also knew the name of your companion. Maglor. Maglor Fëanorion. It was surprising to say the least. But you dwelled little on the matter. By the looks of it, Maglor had already been through sufficient punishment. No need to lay any more on him. The healers rushed to take him to the infirmary so he could rest and gain some of his strength back. You promised him that you would visit in a few days once he is a little more stable.

A few days have passed and both you and Elrond have visited Maglor a few times. There’s been a rumor floating around Rivendell that Elrond could be related to the elf that was brought to the healers at the start of the week. You wanted to ask Maglor about it but weren’t sure if he’d tell you anything.

Things started to quiet down again as the weeks went by. Weeks turned into a few months and something started to grow between you and Maglor. At first it appeared to be a deep friendship but now it feels like it may one day be more. Only time will tell whether something could be between you.

Maglor was starting to make a speedy recovery now that a few months have passed. He no longer looked malnourished and could walk for a considerable amount of time again. His hair had grown fuller too. It pained you to remember how matted and gross it had looked when you first saw him.

However as time passes and seasons change so do our wishes. Your soul wanted to go home. So it became clear to you and a handful of others that you would be boarding the next available ship at the grey havens. You had talked this over with Elrond and a few of your other friends, one of which was Maglor.

He felt sad about your upcoming departure be he refused to let it show.

And so the day of your departure finally arrived.

It was early in the morning, the sun has just barely come out of hiding. You stood still on the docks, taking in middle earth for what would likely be the last time. You wanted to go home, but a tiny part of you was having trouble letting go. Maglor had promised to meet you before you left. The majority of elves had boarded the ship already, you were the only one stalling the departure. Finally you saw a figure in the distance that appeared to be Maglor. He ran towards you, pushing through the crowd of people to get to you as best as he could.

“I am sorry for making you wait y/n! I tried to come here as fast as I could. I overestimated my ability to run….I am unable to run as much as I once could.” He said, smiling sheepishly.  

You smiled back and stepped a little closer to him. “It is fine, do not worry. We still have time before the boat leaves.”

Despite Maglor smiling warmly at you he was being torn apart internally. One part of him wished desperately to come with you, but a voice in his head told him he wasn’t worthy of returning to valinor and that he should forever remain in isolation.  “I am not certain that I can go with you Y/n….I…I must remain here in Arda.”

You were saddened by his words but decided not to push him. After all it wouldn’t be the last boat to leave for valinor.  “Maglor, no matter what or where if you decide to leave to valinor one day, know that I’ll only ever be an ocean away.” You smiled the best smile you could muster. It was in this moment that you came to the realization that you loved him. Yet you now would never get the chance to say it. It was now truly time for the ship to sail out towards valinor. There was no way that you could stall it any further. You said your goodbyes and boarded the ship. A coldness came over your heart and a tear slipped from your eye.

Maglor watched as the ship sailed out, boring holes into your back with his gaze. And then right at the least expected moment something took hold of his senses and he threw himself into the sea. The coldness of the sea forced him to swim forward as he called out to you. The elves on the boat saw him struggling to swim and threw out a fishing net to catch him up onto the boat.

He was drenched to the bone and shivering, but his smile was warmer than the sun on a summer afternoon.

He didn’t care anymore about people’s judgements and what the valar would say of his return. All he ever needed was you, and now that he had you…nothing else mattered.

[doodle-pops]

Seconds Chances Are Worth Living For

Maglor x human!reader

Request: Hi can I request an fic (or onehsot) where a human finds Maglor wondering the beach where he threw the silmaril and they help him? - anon

Warnings: human!reader, light angst with happy ending/comfort, depressed and gloomy Maglor

Words: 1.3k

Synopsis: Nobody ever said second chances in life were easy, nor were changes necessary to bring them.

“Will you not come with me?”

His heart twisted painfully; your words lingered in the air like an unwelcome odour he desperately wished to dispel. Too often had these haunting words surfaced in his mind during the agonizing days of solitude. Too many times, he found himself yearning for them to materialize into reality, yet he remained resolute in his pride, steadfast against the prospect of accepting forgiveness. Deep within, he longed for the warmth of a fireplace, enclosed by walls of solace and finality—enough respite from the harshness of the ocean waves and the mournful cries of seagulls.

His posture, detached upon the rugged rocks, nearly melding into the static structure, remained unmoved. On the contrary, you stood unwavering before him, your gaze fixed upon his threadbare form draped in the remnants of shame and despair. It was a clash between an immovable object and an unstoppable force, and you were determined not to be the one to yield. Whether it was destiny or the cosmic alignment that led you to his desolate presence on the shores of Forlindon, you were resolved not to depart without pulling him away.

Defiance surged through your veins as you continued to face his statuesque figure, yet you restrained yourself from encroaching upon his personal space.

“If you stay another hour, you may succumb to fatal illness,” you pleaded, voice above a whisper. A strong gust of wind roamed the shores, prompting you to curl your cloak around your shoulders tightly to your body. There was a faint chattering of your teeth as you gathered the courage to speak up again. “Please, there is a cabin not too far away from these shores. The least you can do is come with me for something warm to eat and drink, perhaps a warmer change of apparel?”

Maglor’s gaze stretched into the distance, fixed upon the horizon, while his fingers gracefully danced through the air, as if caressing an unseen harp. Murmuring unfamiliar words, too delicate for mortal ears to grasp, his lament echoed the sorrows of a bygone era when the world was in its infancy. This was the poignant scene that unfolded before you: Maglor, singing with a voice textured like sandpaper, tears encrusting his eyelids, lips weathered and parted, fingers weaving through the invisible threads of melody, and eyes reflecting a profound abyss of desolation.

In a single glance, your heart welled with empathy, and tears threatened to spill from your lashes. In a burst of compassion, you implored and beseeched him to find solace within the confines of your cabin, offering a glimmer of hope to bring an end to his eternal torment.

“Please,” –you stepped closer, dwarfed by his largeness despite his malnourished physique– “I’m not asking you to stay forever if that is what you believe I seek. I only wish to help you—”

“Why?” He spoke or rather, croaked!

“Well…” you fumbled, stunned at his ability to communicate after minutes of attempting to capture his attention. “Because it is the right thing to do.”

“Why?”

Flapping your lips like a fish and furrowing your brows to mimic confusion, you stammered, “W-Well, I mean—You shouldn’t be alone out here in the element…suffering. You deserve a warm bed and comfort.”

“Why?” You never imagined that reaching out to aid a person would become so difficult. Indeed he was proving to be an unmovable object, but you were willing to be that unstoppable force who spoke wisdom into him.

For a fleeting moment, your gaze descended from his lean countenance to the weathered rock upon which he perched, his nimble fingers still weaving through the breeze in search of a haunting melody. A serene ambiance enveloped both of you, juxtaposed against the impending unease hanging in the air. The turbulent seas clashed vehemently against the headlands and platforms, while the sky hinted at an impending tempest, prompting you to ponder earnestly on what he sought from you amid the impending cataclysm.

Rubbing your cheek to battle against the frost nipping at your skin, you pinched your lips, then scratched your head as though an oncoming headache was surfacing. “Because I want to help you and I believe you are in need of help. My mortal compass would not rest well knowing that I left someone out in the element to suffer when I could relieve some of it.”

“And…what if you are…” He never finished his words for his throat seized up on him, but they lingered in the air ringing obviousness to what he was conveying.

“Wrong? Then I will learn a life lesson to not trust strangers who are on the brink of death.” Releasing a chuckle as you crinkled your nose, you looked at him once more. “I rather spend my time helping someone in need of it instead of having restless days and nights knowing I left you to suffer. If I am wrong…—everyone suffers differently, the good, the bad and the indifferent. What matters is that I helped; what you choose to do after is your choice and path.”

For the first time since your encounter, his lacklustre gaze fixed upon your earthly form, shrouded in ebony. His eyes meticulously studied every nuance of your being, from the strands of your hair down to the contour of your chin, even discerning the intricacies of your skin that radiated vitality. It was a quality of his that had languished in purgatory for countless eons. Compelling his lips to part, his pallid complexion yielded, producing droplets of moisture that emerged, imparting a semblance of colour to his wistful countenance. “But…am stran…ger.”

Resisting the urge to physically shake him by his shoulder before being beyond complex, you huffed and widened your eyes, tears threatening to spill as your emotions swallowed you. “Yes, yes! I know you are a stranger! You could be a sea creature too for all I know, who crawled out the depths of the ocean to lament his sufferings to the surface world! But none of that matters because I know a suffering person when I see one because I too… Please, let me help you. Don’t…give up without trying. Let me help...”

Maglor drew in a slow, measured breath before exhaling. It felt as though some divine intervention, dispatched by the Valar to alleviate his torment, had arrived in the form of your unwavering determination. Perhaps the burden of his endless years wandering the shores had become too much for even the Valar to bear, prompting their counsel for his return. Alternatively, this could be yet another vivid dream, a product of years spent attempting to conjure solace. Regardless, it all seemed serendipitous.

Though he longed to inquire about his fate should he accept, the strength to articulate a single syllable eluded him. As his eyes locked onto yours in search of sincerity, he grappled with the duality of seeking both truth and deceit, yearning for the former.

Setting aside his infamous pride, swallowing it like a scalding-hot, white rod, a new chapter unfolded. The courage amassed since ancient days returned, instilling confidence in his actions. However, the lack of physical strength betrayed him, causing his legs to give way, sending him tumbling into the damp sand. In that moment, he felt an overwhelming desire to weep at the transformation he had undergone and the shame he carried. Your arms delicately extended, encircling his waist, as he clung to your figure. From a once-great prince to a desolate wanderer in need of mortal compassion, Maglor held onto you as you struggled to lift him onto his feet, leaning his weakened body against yours.

“All is fine, I have you. Just walk with me, small steps and we shall get there safely and securely,” you softly reassured as you carried him towards a new beginning.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @ladyenchanted @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @hermaeuswhora

[leucisticpuffin]

Welcome to Mrs. Maeriel's Forest School! Some autumn fun for the latest chapter - read on AO3:

[niennawept]

Moon Dumplings: A Pan-Elven Cultural Debate in Three Documents (Part 2)

Warning(s): None Rating: Gen Summary: The origins of moon dumplings, shared amongst all branches of elven kindred, are a source of frequent arguments, both culinary and scholarly. Part 1 is here.

Selected Interviews from Díril’s research into moon dumpling origins, transcribed in her own hand

Q: When did you first hear of moon dumplings?

A: They were with us even at Cuiviénen. Had them often when the nights got very cold. They are warming, you know. Good for putting some meat on your bones. You are too skinny, young lady. Respondent 1: a Sindarin elleth of unknown age, asked to estimate she shrugged and said “we did not count years back then”

A: Not until we were nearing the Anduin on the Great Journey. We made lembas out of Valarin corn, but it was not until we halted to wait for better conditions for crossing that those with minds for cooking learned to make the dough. Respondent 2: a Nandorin ellon, born approximately ninety winters before the Journey at Cuiviénen

A: They were invented during the hottest days, of course. Stews and porridges are hearty and delicious, but they leave something to be desired when it gets too warm out. The calming influence of the stars will set that right. [interviewer prompts “can you estimate the year?”] Oh! Right after Oromë gave the Noldor the right type of flour. We kept them secret, you know, from the other kindred. Respondent 3: an Exilic Noldorin elleth, who was born on the Great Journey

A: I do not remember. When I was still a small child. Respondent 4: an Avari ellon, who remembered choosing to stay rather than joining the Great Journey

Q: Why are they called moon dumplings?

A: They were not originally called that. It was only after the moon and his phases that folk changed their name. They used to be called “starbeads.” Respondent 1

Respondent 2 declined to answer.

A: Because they are cured under moonlight these days. What do they teach you in Lindon, girl? Respondent 3

A: We do not call them that. We call them “starbeads.” [respondent says something mostly inaudible, but a portion of it contained the phrase “new names for old things”] Respondent 4

Q: Who invented them?

A: The Noldor. I already told you that. Respondant 3

All other respondents declined to answer.

Q: Are the fillings of this dumpling sweet or savory?

A: Either, whatever is available. Respondent 1

A: Sweet, always. Respondent 2

A: Savory, always. Respondent 3

A: Both, sometimes. Respondent 4

Q: What is the traditional filling for these dumplings?

A: Oh, all sorts. Anything that will not tear the skin while cooking. No one wants to be picking out little bits of burned vegetables from a steam basket. It is important that the filling is soft either by nature or by cooking first. [interviewer asks “which were the most common?”] Mushrooms, wild plants, sometimes fish or fowl. Respondent 1

A: We begin by collecting sap from maple trees, which is boiled to remove impurities and concentrate the flavor. We filter it and add dried fruits and minced nuts. When it has cooked down and become rather sticky, we fill the dumplings. Respondent 2

A: Meat, obviously. [interviewer prompts “what kind of meat?”] Whatever can be gotten with relative ease. Respondent 3

A: Minced nuts are most usual. Respondent 4

Q: Are there alternate fillings that are acceptable?

A: I have already answered that question. Respondent 1

A: Absolutely not. Respondent 2

A: Have you taken leave of your senses? No. Respondent 3

A: Fruit is also common. Respondent 4

Q: What texture should the dumpling wrapping be?

A: They should have a texture that requires a bit of chewing. The flavor improves with more moonlight. Respondant 2

All other respondents answered with a variation of “not tough [like the Nandorin variety.]”

For @silmarillionepistolary week

[demonscantgothere]

Let the Vultures In. Celebrimbor/Sauron | Annatar. Explicit. 7.3k. [2/10]

Together, Annatar and Celebrimbor create the rings of power. Apart, they fight for control of Eregion.

“We have a lot in common,” Celebrimbor agreed quietly, his bright eyes still narrowed on the text scrawled across the parchment in front of him—as if the longer he stared, he might discern some secret from it through the effort. He did not look up at Annatar. “I have seen you,” he then revealed, hand idly reaching for his wine goblet on the table to raise it to his lips, pausing it just halfway to them. “Many nights,” he added, gesturing with his wine goblet at their surroundings, “wandering the halls out here. Sometimes it looks as though you are sleepwalking across the grounds. I admit I’ve been reluctant to disturb you.” Celebrimbor took a gulp of his wine, never meeting Annatar’s eyes. His confession caught Annatar off guard. He could name no nights where he had seen Celebrimbor before this one. How could the Elf have slipped through his notice like that, through his fingers like that—watching him instead?

Keep Reading, but Mind the Tags.

[meadowlarkx]

Some March fic recs!

For Tolkien Fanfic Reading Month! Limiting myself to stories I read in March (but posted anytime). (header by Anna Zakharova on Unsplash)

picnic by @swanmaids - A bored and reckless Aredhel goes to Vána's orchards seeking adventure and has an experience. This lush and sexy fic feels like a warm summer afternoon. I love how seductive and eerie Vána is here!

Kiss and Marry by @thecoolblackwaves - Have you ever looked at Celegorm and Curufin and thought, "They should be the stars of a romcom"? No? This fic is here to reveal that wonder to you.

弄假成真 by Divano_Messiah - Maglor has been telling people at school that he has a boyfriend. Maedhros is jealous until he learns who it is. (I admit I read this via google translate, you can too...)

Envy by @polutrope - In Tirion, Maglor and Elemmírë struggle to handle each other's reputations with equanimity. The people around them try to respond. This fic is so funny and sweet--I love this take on Elemmírë and Fëanor's guest appearance is hilariously him.

Youthful Regrets by kitkatkaylie - Turgon and Maglor fall in love in Valinor before Turgon's engagement to Elenwë. I really like the personality contrasts of this ship, with Turgon opening up to Maglor, and how this story sketches out their relationship through the whole arc of Silm to its bitter separation.

I risk my life to make my name by @maironsbigboobs - The brave knight Galadriel goes on a journey to meet the Green Woman Melian and her fate, ft. adventures along the way. I love how Tolkien is blended with Arthurian conventions here--it works so well and brings out the myth vibes of Silm that I love so much!

Strange Currencies chapter 12 by @jouissants - This is such a beautifully-crafted tale in every regard, but I want to especially mention this flashback chapter I read in March, covering Maedhros' and Maglor's voyage on the swan ships up to just before Fëanor's death. The horror of the Fëanorian Noldor arriving in the dark with their distrust, inflated ego, and total lack of knowledge of Middle-earth comes through here so, so vividly--this part can be read by itself, go check it out!!

Oubliette by Stramonium - Horrifying and so vividly written scene of Maedhros in Angband, isolation, and monstrosity. Poetic and awful, I can't do it justice in summarizing it.

arrangement for flute and harp by @jouissants - Maedhros is determined to work late, so Maglor and Fingon decide to entertain each other. The Himring atmosphere and incredible character dynamics make this also really sexy smut such a wonderful story.

whatever you would crave by @eight-pointed-star - Sooo sexy ficlet in which Fingon and Maedhros attend to Maglor's Needs. Short but immensely powerful.

scherzo for ink and parchment by @dovewifes - Charming and comedic missives exchanged between Maedhros and Maglor during the Long Peace, ft. romantic endearments and the invention of emojis. Maedhros' so-apparent love for Maglor is something I especially cherish about this fun fic.

Star-kissed by @aipilosse - Celeborn of Doriath rescues recently-of-Gondolin (and silver-haired!) Celebrimbor from a predicament in Nan Dungortheb. Incredibly clever, funny, and hot!

Purification by @zealouswerewolfcollector - Thingol is curious about Maedhros: throne sex ensues. A favorite ship of mine in a flavor I'd never considered. Incredibly intense and super well-written.

Comfort from a Heavy Hand by @undercat-overdog - After the Bragollach, Mablung tends to an injured Beleg, and they seek comfort together. The wreckage and destruction of the battle feels so vivid in this one, and the dynamic of Beleg/Mablung as past teacher and student (and current battle companions) is wonderful.

Thou knowest to-night, and wilt know to-morrow by @welcomingdisaster - A brilliant installment in an ongoing Children of Húrin AU series that has the most beautiful, unsettling, and dreamlike atmosphere. In this fic Maedhros teaches "Cáno" about pleasure in preparation for their marriage bed. Catnip to me personally!!

Proxy by @aipilosse - Celebrimbor comes to reproach Celegorm in Nargothrond after Finrod's departure. They fuck. Gender, tension, messy and complicated emotional dynamics all around. The dirty talk is so so good.

Star of the Nevrast Shore by joanofarcstan - Silmarillion filk of one of my favorite folk songs! What more is there to say!! A sweet tale of Gondolin told from Voronwë's point of view, recounting the love between him, Tuor (the star of the Nevrast shore), Idril, and Maeglin.

A Light Burns in the Forest by fictional_hr_department - Thranduil and Oropher escape Menegroth with child Elwing. The title and art by @lycheesodas give me chills and the atmosphere of the fic as they make their disorienting journey to Sirion really brings to life the terrible aftermath of the second kinslaying.

By Your Side by HiyoriTomioka - fem!Eärendil and Elwing support each other in this ficlet... such a good vision of this ship, and the way Eärendil thinks about Tuor and Idril here with longing uncertainty makes me think of a trans!Eärendil even though that is not explicit.

Something Sleepless in Mirkwood by @imakemywings - Thranduil sickens as the Greenwood does. Elrond tries to heal him, but can't understand at first what's happening. Brilliant and canon-compliant (To Me) wry, proud, and eerie woodland king Thranduil--go give this a read!

A boat, my boat, out upon the River by Tethys_resort - Sméagol is trying to craft his own boat to take fishing. His family keeps getting in the way. This sweet fic paints such an idyllic picture of proto-Hobbit life and made me really feel the tragedy of Gollum.

The Fortress by TheLegendCreator - Brief and haunting fic in which a Dwarf visits the ruins of Himring and they have a conversation. I love the view this offers of Maedhros and the fierce loyalty Himring and its folk had for him.

one whole with my other by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor - Indis' marriage to Finwë is transferred to bind her instead to reembodied Míriel. This turns out to be a good thing. An incredibly touching, beautifully wrought and worldbuilt story. I just love it so much.

The Number One Exercise for Relieving Work-Related Stress (Click to Find Out!) by @imakemywings - Date night in Mirkwood. Maglor (Noldorin princess, ex-kinslayer) adorns herself for the benefit of Thranduil (the Elvenqueen)--or that's her plan, anyway. This story is so sexy, so funny, and honestly so touching. I just adore this ship as a happy ending for Maglor and their relationship is gorgeously fleshed out here.

Cousin, Sister, Lover, Queen by broken_pencils - Lesbian Éowyn discovers desire... through Éomer's betrothed Lothíriel. Lothíriel is a stealth fav for me from the Éomer fics I used to read as a kid and I really enjoyed her here, and the lush atmosphere of this story.

His Return by @danmeiljie - Beautiful, tender scene of Maedhros and Maglor reuniting as per @tari-cua's art. Such lovely descriptions in this one and so cozy.

[lotr-sesa]

Lord of the Rings Secret Santa 2023 Masterlist!

To date, we have FORTY stories and two pieces of fanart. The mods would like to thank all the writers and the pinch hitters, and also extend a special heartfelt thanks to those who filled prompts without signing up with prompts of their own. Thank you! ❤️

All the links in the masterlist go directly to the work on AO3. Go, read and enjoy, and please don't forget to leave kudos! And if you received something, please thank your writer or artist!

A long Journey Home by Plant_Murderer for octopus_fool

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationships: Éomer & Théodred, Éowyn & Théodred, Théoden & Théodred, Thèodred/OC

Characters: Théodred, Gríma, Théoden

Summary: Thèodred, now older and called Aldred, thinks back on the events that led him to be mocked and scorned in the home of his birth as he rides through night to get home.

A star docks at Balar by Kirta for Plant_Murderer

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Elrond & Elros & Elwing, Eärendil/Elwing

Characters: Elwing, Elrond, Elros, Eärendil

Summary: Vingilot docks at the Isle of Balar near the end of the War of Wrath, brilliant with light and the gleaming of crystal dust undimmed by the scars of battle. (in which Elwing is fully prepared to carry on the family tradition of rules-lawyering)

Aftermath by ingenious_spark for silvergreyleaf

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Characters: Maedhros, Eluréd, Elurín

Summary: Maedhros searches for Eluréd and Elurín in the aftermath of the Sack of Doriath. He cannot allow Celegorm's last act to be this tragedy.

All day I had the feeling a miracle would happen... by I_did_not_mean_to for cilil

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationships: Irmo & Námo & Nienna, Námo/Vairë

Characters: Irmo, Námo, Nienna, Vairë

Summary : Right after the beginning of everything, it soon turns out that "everything" is not quite...what it was promised to be. Námo, Nienna, and Vairë struggle with their purpose on account of a certain lack. For once, Eru actually intervenes positively. Enter Irmo, stage right... Welcome to my reimagining of canon. No warnings--it's all very tame!

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? by I_did_not_mean_to for Melkor (Melkors_big_Tits)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Relationships: Manwë & Morgoth, Manwë/Morgoth, Morgoth/Oromë, Morgoth/Tulkas

Characters: Morgoth, Manwë, Oromë, Tulkas

Summary: This is Melkor, Cílil, and my little person. Please heed the tags and take care of yourselves-this is your official warning not to proceed without asking yourself long and hard whether you really want to do that.

Anoint My Love, Under the Sky by Maironite (noxeos) for Anonymous

Rating: Mature

Relationship: Arien/Eönwë

Characters: Arien, Eönwë

Summary: Telling her that he worries for her, that he craves her full attention is selfish - not in his nature. Eönwë is there to guide them, to protect them, to fight for them. He is his Order firstmost, and his own person secpond. Manwë's Herald has no time for matters of the heart, no right to claim a specific person. And yet-

Athelas by nyctophilic0vitnir for atamascolily

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Characters: Éowyn, Aragorn, Théoden, Éomer, Daisy Baggins, Celandine Brandybuck, Elendil, Isildur, Eärien

At the Mirrormere by Caiti (Caitriona_3) for Jarakrisafis

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationship: Aulë/Yavanna

Characters: Aulë, Durin, Yavanna

Summary: Family is found and created in many ways, and a son will always seek to match the example, the legacy of his father.

Basic Instinct by BaccaratBlack for Anonymous

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Eönwë/Gil-galad

Characters: Gil-galad, Eönwë

Summary: During the War of Wrath, Gil-galad seeks comfort where he can find it. He?s simply not prepared for the peculiarities of his Maia comrade.

Berry cakes and elfling plagues by GoschateWabn for Lost_inMiddleearth (between_thepages)

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship: Erestor/Glorfindel

Characters: Glorfindel, Erestor, Elladan, Elrohir, Elrond

Summary: The (failed) attempts of lord Glorfindel of the golden flower to propose to head councillor Erestor.

Budding Romance by ingenious_spark for Lost_inMiddleearth (between_thepages)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationships: Elrond/Gil-galad, Celebrían/Elrond, Celebrían/Elrond/Gil-galad

Characters: Elrond, Gil-galad, Celebrían

Comparative Studies On Eldarin Cultures Across Aman and Middle-Earth by maironite (noxeos) for sallysavestheday (illustrated fic)

Rating: General Audiences

Characters: Silvan Elves, Avari Characters, Laiquendi Characters, Noldor, Sindar, Vanyar, Falmari

Summary: An artistic rendition on the various different ethnicity amongst Elves

Dawn Comes For All Of Us by maironite (noxeos) for Anonymous

Rating: Mature

Relationship: Fingon/Maedhros

Characters: Maedhros, Fingon, Sons of Fëanor, Fëanor, Nerdanel

Summary: And would have Maedhros ever imagined to get such life, a life he still felt that deep down he did not deserve. But loving someone wasn't only about whether or not you felt you deserved it, it meant becoming the best version you could for them and Fingon, his sweet loving Fingon had awaited ages for his return. For Maedhros to put back together a sense of identity not tied to the cursed stones, not tied to a bloody oath, not tied to a doomed legacy. Until he could stand on his own two feet and accept love in his life once more without the broken shards of a looming tragedy awaiting in every shadow. It's the Winter Solstice in Aman. and Maedhros' family is here.

Excerpt from Flora and Fauna of the Third Age, Volume 1: Flora by Galadriel for atamascolily

Rating: General Audiences

Characters: Alphros, Original Characters

Summary: A page taken from celebrated non-fiction author Barahir Elfwine IV's botanical guide, Flora and Fauna of the Third Age, Volume 1: Flora. This exclusive excerpt concerns the habitat and history of the mysterious simbelmynë.

Finding Our Way by Melusine6619 for likethenight

Rating: Not Rated

Relationship: Imrahil/Legolas

Characters: Legolas, Imrahil

Summary: After getting to know each other, Legolas and Imrahil confess their feelings and take a first step together.

Forged by Jarakrisafis for Tathrin

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: character death

Relationships: Celebrimbor/Narvi, Celebrimbor & Sauron

Characters: Celebrimbor, Narvi, Sauron

Summary: In the ashes, what is left?

Geriatric Gas Giant by I_did_not_mean_to for cilil

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Eönwë/Gothmog, Eönwë & Manwë, Eönwë & Finarfin

Characters: Eönwë, Gothmog, Manwë, Finarfin

Summary: Yes, that was a weak pun-ny title...sue me! Here we go, friend, I am a woman of my word. Firebird à la sauce Twilight... I am afraid I'll end up insulting and offending everyone, but that's a risk I've got to take :D

Haladriel Fill by nyctophilic0vitnir for Anonymous

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationship: Galadriel /Halbrand

Characters: Galadriel, Halbrand, Sauron, Finrod, Felagund, Celeborn

I Do Wander Everywhere by Empy for facethestrange

Rating: General Audiences

Character: Elanor "Nori" Brandyfoot

Lanternlight by Empy for Anonymous

Rating: Mature

Relationship: Bard/Thranduil

Characters: Bard, Thranduil

Summary: Thranduil pays a late visit to Dale at Yule and Bard receives more than one gift.

Letters from the eve of despair by octopus_fool for Kirta

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Characters: Fíriel of Gondor, Faramir (son of Ondoher), Artamir

Summary: On the evening before riding to battle, Faramir and Artamir write each other and their sister Fíriel letters in the knowledge that they might not see each other again.

Life just over there by oakenting for Anonymous

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Elwing/Maedhros

Characters: Elwing, Maedhros

Summary: Sometimes you just have to break out of the life you live and do something stupid. Elwing goes to meet Maedhros, and they connect.

Limit Testing by cilil for Melkors_big_Tits

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Morgoth/Sauron, Gothmog/Morgoth

Characters: Morgoth, Sauron, Gothmog

Summary: Melkor suggests an experiment - testing the limits of physical pleasure. His two favourite servants are more than excited to participate and fulfill their lord's wishes.

Middle-Earth's Greatest Tourist Trap by octopus_fool for Adsters

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Characters: Hobbit Characters, Sauron, Original Baggins Character(s)

Midwinter by Lost_inMiddleearth (between_thepages) for sallysavestheday

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship: Éomer/Lothíriel

Characters: Lothíriel, Éomer

Summary: It is Midwinter in Rohan, and Lothíriel, recently wed to the King, joins the celebrations for the first time.

Mission Impossible: Dragonhoard by GoschateWabn for octopus_fool (fanart)

Rating: General Audiences

Character: Ravens of Erebor

Summary: In which the ravens of Erebor would like their share of the treasure, thank you very much.

Ode to a Nightingale by ohboromir for Anonymous

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Aragorn/Arwen

Characters: Aragorn, Arwen

Summary: An unkempt stranger pays a visit to the Elven-Queen of Gondor. Neither of them are disappointed.

Old friends by silvergreyleaf for Anonymous

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Celebrimbor & Narvi, Annatar/Celebrimbor

Characters: Narvi, Celebrimbor, Annatar

Summary: Narvi has died of old age and learns of the fate of Ost-In-Edhil in the halls of Mandos. Enraged, he seeks out his old friend. A conversation ensues.

Out Of Love Cometh by chiliadicorum for Anonymous

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship: Irmo & Námo

Characters: Irmo, Námo, one sleeping Elf

Summary: The Valar have decided to invite the Elves at Cuiviénen to move themselves to Aman, but Námo didn’t say a word during their entire council. Irmo seeks him out afterwards to find out why.

Parure by Empy for Anonymous

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship: Gimli/Legolas

Characters: Gimli, Legolas

Summary: A series of vignettes. Legolas does his best to court Gimli properly.

Perfect Moments by Lillithsea for Anonymous

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationship: Maglor/Turgon

Characters: Turgon, Maglor

Summary: Turgon falls in love with his cousin, almost without realizing it.

Sharing is caring by I_did_not_mean_to for Anonymous

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationship: Caranthir/Haleth/Caranthir's Wife

Characters: Caranthir's Wife, Caranthir, Haleth

Summary: Here is my tiny take on Haleth/Caranthir/Caranthir's wife.

Songbird by facethestrange for oakenting (Fanart)

Rating: General Audiences

Character: Disa

Summary: Sometimes Disa likes to go outside to sing and make some winged friends in the process.

Spinning by I_did_not_mean_to for BaccaratBlack

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Curufin/TurgonCaranthir/Turgon

Characters: Curufin, Turgon, Maedhros, Fingon, Celegorm, Caranthir

Summary: Here is my take on your beloved having a little bit of fun! I love you dearly, and I hope you'll like this :D

The Edge of Flames by BaccaratBlack for Anonymous

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Elwing/Maedhros

Characters: Elwing , Maedhros

Summary: After ages together as unlikely companions on Elwing’s lonely isle, she has her ways of both comforting and haunting Maedhros.

The Egg is the World by cilil for GoschateWabn

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationship: Eönwë /Gothmog

Characters: Gothmog, Eönwë, Sauron, Morgoth (Mentioned), Manwë (mentioned)

Summary: When Gothmog's attempt at helping with brooding and hatching their precious egg ends with Melkor and Mairon discovering and seizing it for their own collection, Eönwë fearlessly marches on Angband alone to retrieve it - by any means necessary.

The hands of a healer by GoschateWabn for Plant_Murderer

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship: Arondir/Bronwyn

Characters: Bronwyn, Arondir, Theo, Aragorn, Sam

Summary: The moment Bronwyn touches the cursed swordhilt, she and Arondir are whisked away to the battle at Weathertop, where another cursed blade has just done it's damage.

The quest for a book by GoschateWabn for Anonymous

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship: Ori /Original Female Character(s)

Characters: Ori, Original Female Character(s)

Summary: In which Ori makes a friend at the library.

These Our Braided Lives by sallysavestheday for Anonymous

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship: Gimli/Legolas

Characters: Gimli, Legolas, Thranduil, Thranduil's Wife

Summary: Legolas and Gimli among the Elves. The challenges and delights of marrying into the Greenwood, in a chain of drabbles.

This is Our Place by tehhumi for Anonymous

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationship: Fingolfin/Maglor

Characters: Fingolfin, Maglor

Summary: Two regent-kings glare at each other from opposite sides of the lake. There's nothing more to it, just cold calculated politics. (That's a complete lie)

When the Hurly-Burly's Done by sallysavestheday for Kirta

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship: Elrond & Gil-galad & Celebrimbor

Characters: Elrond, Gil-galad, Celebrimbor

Summary: Elrond and Gil-galad and Celebrimbor picnic on the edge of the world.

[annab99awritersdream]

Currently reworking my whole Lady of Ithilien timeline.

I was initially firmly set on the idea of having Enna die at 37—she's born in FoA 1 and she was supposed to die in FoA 38—but since I've introduced a first husband for her and the idea of Eönwë having to get over his first love (and it will take him a while to do so), I might have her live A LITTLE longer. Mind you, she'll die young anyway but, in my mercy, I'll kill her off in her early forties. Based on this latest update, she'll probably die around FoA 42/43 so that she has a few more years with her children. That also means that the twins she was supposed to give birth to in FoA 38 will be born a few years later.

I kinda want to stick to my original plan which had Mírion being 16 at the time of his parents' death (Eönwë dies roughly six months after Enna's demise and that will never change) so he'll probably still be born around FoA 26 and the other children will follow as already planned minus the twins.

But who knows, really. I'm coming up with random characters and events I had never even thought of before and my fingers type whatever they want anyways. So I guess you'll just have to stay tuned and keep on reading.