Silmarillion Writers' Guild Do Something That's Never Been Done

Excerpt from "Unprecendented"

by Lyra

An uncomfortable hush fell on the High Table. The bridegroom looked around at the mortified faces and very nearly cursed. He bit the words back at the last moment, telling himself that the only thing worse than this embarrassed silence at his wedding feast would be curses at his wedding feast.

It was his own fault, though in all honesty he could not have expected it. It was a perfectly innocent question after all! He had only meant to tease his brother's eldest son. There had been feasting, and there had been dancing; and then the musicians had taken a break, and the dancers had returned to their chairs. And Arafinwë had turned to Findekáno, who had with the awkwardly perfect manners of the young delivered the girl he had been dancing with back to her parents. "Well, Findo?" Arafinwë had said, smiling. "Who is your little friend? Will the next wedding be between you and her?"
And with the unabashedly loud voice of the young, Findekáno had declared, "Oh, I won't marry her. If I marry, it'll be cousin Russandol."

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Excerpt from "Written in Starlight"

by Rhapsody the Bard and Robinka

Caranthir cursed quietly. The group came to a full stop. Curufin’s stallion started to rear as the tension of the moment peaked roughly, awaking Maeglin from his slumber. The three brothers without an extra rider prepared their bows rapidly. Maedhros and Maglor exchanged a tense glance.

“Celegorm hold your tongue!” Maglor warned his brother. Too much depended on this moment. In a serious tone, he ordered Beleg, “Lead the way to your king, chief of the march-wardens.”

“You know what we agreed upon,” Beleg answered cautiously.

We will hold to our promises, Cúthalion,” Maglor stated calmly. “Amrod, Amras, Celegorm… please lower your bows and gather all our arms.”

“Maglor, are you out of your mind!” Celegorm whirled his horse in anger.

With a fluent motion, Beleg dismounted, retrieving his bow and an arrow from the quiver at the same time. Taking a few steps backward he pulled the bowstring, ready to release the arrow, aiming at the sons of Fëanor while slightly turning from side to side.

"Do as I say! Gather our weapons and place them on the ground over there where our hosts can see them,” Maglor continued and silently pleaded for his order to work.

“Maglor!” The twins joined Celegorm in his protest.

“Do as you are told!” Maedhros voice boomed over the path. “We will enter the realm of the Sindar unarmed. Unless they are afraid of our words.”

“Well, well, I do not think I agreed upon anything with any of you,” Mablung shouted, once again moving his hand. “You will stay here, because I have no intention of letting you in. Do I make myself clear?”

One of the arrows whizzed a hairsbreadth from Caranthir’s helmet.

“It was a mere warning,” Mablung called out.

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"Fingon's Impossible Rescue of Maedhros," excerpt from "Character of the Month Biography: Fingon the Valiant"

by Oshun

The story of Fingon the Valiant epitomizes the fate of the exiled Noldor. Its elements of extraordinary personal heroism combine with a foreordained doom to form part of the gripping foundation for the principle storyline of The Silmarillion. The poignancy of Fingon's tale is enhanced by the reader’s foreknowledge of the necessarily tragic outcome of the Doom of the Noldor.

Upon his arrival in Hithlum, where Fingolfin’s company first met encountered the sons of Fëanor on the shores of Lake Mithrim, Fingon discovered that Morgoth had captured Maedhros. Fingon set out to successfully rescue Maedhros, against all odds and alone, from the cliffs of Thangorodrim.

Then Fingon the valiant, son of Fingolfin, resolved to heal the feud that divided the Noldor, before their Enemy should be ready for war . . . . Long before, in the bliss of Valinor, before Melkor was unchained, or lies came between them, Fingon had been close in friendship with Maedhros; and though he knew not yet that Maedhros had not forgotten him at the burning of the ships, the thought of their ancient friendship stung his heart. Therefore he dared a deed which is justly renowned among the feats of the princes of the Noldor: alone, and without the counsel of any, he set forth in search of Maedhros. (The Silmarillion, "Of the Return of the Noldor")

It is at the initiative of Fingon that the plans were set in motion to resolve, or at very least mitigate, the worst of the division among the Noldor, which could have made their survival in Middle-earth problematic. Maedhros's abdication of the High Kingship in favor of Fingolfin and the success reunification of the two principle factions of the Noldor are acts almost as seemingly impossible and fantastic as Fingon's daring rescue of his most beloved cousin.

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Excerpt from "Opportunity Discovered and Seized"

by Lady Roisin

The excited chatter of the gathered crowd roared like storm-driven waves upon the shore. People lined the streets for as far as Beregar could see. They surged forward, hoping for a glance of the grand royal procession. Word reached Beregar of Tar-Meneldur’s elaborate plans to celebrate the announcement of his heir. The rumors said it was the King’s way of further facilitating reconciliation with his son. Aldarion’s love of the sea and his voyages had been a regular source of ire for his father. Still, even Beregar was unable to resist the urge to chuckle quietly to himself when he learned that Tar-Meneldur had gone so far as to put in place a law that restricted how many trees could be harvested for the purpose of shipbuilding. Surely the King was not entirely surprised by Aldarion’s love affair with seafaring, especially when it was well known that the Queen’s father, Vëantur, raised Aldarion with stories of his day as a mariner and gave the boy the keys to the cage by teaching him how to sail.

Despite the royal family’s escapades, they were counted among the most beloved of all of Númenor’s leaders. When the invitation to the feast arrived at Beregar’s home his young daughter, Erendis, was beside herself with excitement and begged Beregar to take her with him. His wife, Núneth, brought up the subject until Beregar finally caved and gave his consent. He almost regretted the decision when he discovered the expenses Núneth spent on preparing Erendis for this day. There had been tutors, hairdressers, jewelers, and dressmakers dashing through Beregar’s home like a flock of wild birds, making his head spin with all of the activity. He was about to send them away when Núneth let him in on her grand scheme.

Aldarion would soon be officially named as the Tar-Meneldur’s heir, and not too long after that the King and Queen would begin their search for a suitable wife. With all the voyages Aldarion occupied his time with over the years it was highly unlikely he had his eyes set upon any potential matches, at least not yet.

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"Across the Grinding Ice"

by Lyra

Across the Grinding Ice by Lyra

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Excerpt from "The Last Words"

by Rhapsody the Bard

“You have broken my heart, you three, and, even though I am not certain if you shall destroy or heal me, I shall do as I must.” Fighting down the temptation to feel enamoured by their dangerous beauty, Nerdanel continued and the glow of the jewels seemed to soothe her.

Her voice was soft now and, if the gems were actual beings, only they would hear her speak. It appeared to be so logical, to converse with them as if they could understand her. “It is not easy, you know. He will drain all of your energy, and you will need to hold on to your tact. At this moment, he just means everything to you, but know this: the feeling shall pass. And then...Oh may Nienna hear my words... Then, you will have to give all that you are to keep his love, and, in the blink of an eye, your allure will be gone. It will be a test. A test that I failed miserably, even after giving him seven sons and enduring all that I have. Is it so impossible to see that it is not easy with that man? Oh! I do hope that you shall fail!” She hissed these last words, her eyes tightly closed.

Suddenly Nerdanel opened her eyes and saw that she held the jewels within her hands. Where she had expected pain and harm, as a backlash for touching them, these jewels - his mistresses - seemed to heal the hurt that shortly ere had been rending her heart. The sensation became almost too much, beguiling her, making her feel young and loved again. Nerdanel found herself gazing directly at the jewels: her mind and heart now open, realising the betrayal in its full power. “Why am I saying all of this? Perhaps, because I want him back? Not in ten ages! No!”

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Excerpt from "Lover's Leap"

by Ellie

"I will not be spoken to in such a manner!" she rounded on him as he backed away from the edge of the cliff.

"Listen to me!" She reached up and grabbed his shoulders. "Arafinwë, listen to me! Listen to me…listen." He stood still, staring down at the obviously mad nís. "I promised you we would be alone and I promised it would be unforgettable."

"You certainly got the latter part right!"

"Arafinwë, please…please," she half pleaded, half consoled. "Your atar said that you might not return again until shortly before the wedding. I cannot bear the thought of being away from you for so long. There are many delights I have planned for you. You will not regret this."

She stood on her toes and pulled him into a kiss far more seductive than the last. As his lips surrendered, her hands wandered passionately, forcing the further surrender of the rest of him as well.

Backing away from his fierce embrace, the light once again caught her dress just so and the look on her face told him she knew he was completely under her sway.

"I will show you how and you follow after me," and blowing him a kiss, she turned and ran to the edge where she leapt, executing a perfect swan dive into the calm water far below.

Alarmed, he ran to the edge and watched as she barely made a splash when she hit the water. He swore, shaking his fist in the air. Pacing away he swore again. Returning to the edge, he lay down on his stomach to see if maybe it were not really as far down as it seemed when he was standing, quietly cursing the considerable height of his Vanyarin ancestors which graced his own frame. Standing again, he paced away muttering and cursing foully under his breath...

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Excerpt from "Fëanaro"

by Idril Vanimedle

Fëanaro could not believe that all along, those words were true. Could not believe that Fingolfin, son of Indis, would ever dare try to steal Finwë’s love as well as his crown from their rightful heir.


The crown, as well as the High King’s favour belonged to his eldest child: Fëanaro, daughter of Míriel.

“King and father, wilt thou not restrain the pride of our sister, Curufinwë, who is rightly called the Spirit of Fire, all too truly? By what right does she have to speak for all of our people, as if she were King?”

“And who be you to speak as such, Nolofinwë, as if thou hast claim over me?”

In she strode, proud and tall, armed with her mighty helm and a fell sword she herself had crafted. Indeed, in her armour she seemed very much a son of the High King, if not the King himself.

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Excerpt from "Livinlävidä"

by Russandol

Legolas skipped another pebble across the pond. Four, five, plop, it sank.

‘I am bored,’ he grumbled, and he sat with a loud sigh next to his companion. Upwind, to avoid the noxious smoke of pipeweed that had already raised so many eyebrows in Aman. But nobody had dared speak against Gimli’s unusual pastime, so the Dwarf smoked happily outside his home after a hearty meal.

‘Nobody would have guessed by looking at you,’ he chuckled.

‘Valinor is boring.’ There, it was said. Long had this disturbing thought wandered in the mind of Thranduil’s son, weaving itself with others that attempted to seek contentment, once the joy at freedom from the sea-longing had been forgotten. ‘Had I known the idleness of my life here, I would have stayed in Ithilien.’

‘Mmmm,’ agreed Gimli. ‘There is nothing wrong with this place but I know what you mean. No orcs, no blizzards, no dark lords. On the other hand, we have good food, great company… You have only been here ten years, lad. Give it time. You have eternity.’ He smiled at the other’s unhappy groan.

‘But if you are really struggling, I may be able to help you…’

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Excerpt from "Dark Prince"

by Spiced Wine

Fos Almir. The Bath of Flame.

It seemed a curtain from sky to earth, rippling with all colors, and from it beat the greatest Power Vanimórë had ever known.

The Valar will never act, never see justice done. Even I can show more mercy than they. And I have nothing left to lose.

He walked into the flame.

It turned night-black as darkness descended over Valinor for the first time since the Two trees had been destroyed.

Vanimórë was annihilated, remade, and through it all, through an abyss of agony and shattering power, he held to the Silmaril. He knew his body was burned away, knew he died, and then...

...the flame burned white.

Light exploded over Aman.

And beyond the world, Eru, who could not step into his vast creation lest he destroy it, looked into Arda Marred and saw all.

He had chosen long ago.

Trailing fire like cerements, Vanimórë stood before the dead body of the Elf he loved, and knelt.

"Come to me," he commanded Elgalad's soul. Power jolted through him like lightning striking and the great wound began to fade, the chest lifted with a gasp of breath and long lashes fluttered open, showing eyes clear and dazzled.


Glorfindel stared at Vanimórë. It was stamped behind the purple eyes, wild and terrible and beautiful. Behind him, Valinor gleamed cold and pure. He turned his head then, like a wolf snapping at squabbling cubs; a knife-blade flash of white teeth, a blaze of the eyes.

Stay back! His voice shivered the ground and the sky boiled into black thunderheads. The Valar massing against him looked distant and misty against the solid core of black fire which Vanimórë had become.

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