New and Updated Writing

“What did you do to your hair?”

The crown on Melkor's head is slanted without the stolen Silmaril, and the only thing Sauron feels is contempt.

Of course it was a trap.
Maitimo has to survive. He must. But what price is too high to pay for survival?

Fëanor shrugged, studying the contents of his wine glass. “Something must be done about that house. It will fall down eventually.”
“It does not follow that it must be you that tears it down single-handedly. Are you sure you do not want help?”
“It’s not as though I have much else to do. I need to build something new there,” he said after a few moments. “To do that, I must first clear away the old and broken things.”

Decades out of Mandos, too many things in Fëanor's life remain broken. He can't do anything except wait for his sons to come to him, but he can do something about the old and crumbling house where they once lived. 

A new star shines in the sky. They claim it brings hope.

Borondir carries Steward Cirion's urgent request to Eorl the Young, with the help of his horse but at great personal cost.

When uneasy dreams bring him back into Beleriand, Daeron finds a pair of twins who have lost their home, and an enemy who has lost himself. The Shadow's reach is growing ever longer, and if they are to survive, they must do it together.

As beautiful as he is dangerous, Aegnor, an elven prince, stands against the looming shadows of Angband. Brother to Galadriel, he commands the siege with a fierce intensity, a duty that exacts a heavy toll on him. Beneath the iron walls he has built lies a broken soul, haunted by a devastating trauma and a well of deeply guarded secrets. His demons, kept at bay by his unyielding intensity that is both his greatest gift and his biggest curse. 

Little does our Noldorin prince know that a chance encounter with a terrified young girl of men will set him on a collision course, igniting an extraordinary bond wrought with challenges, sacrifices, and intense love that threatens to unravel his guarded heart, and all he keeps within it.

Brace yourself for Part I of this captivating tale, where the primal power of love and devestating loss will tear lives apart forever.

It occurred to Elwing that she had made a mistake, coming along with these strange, fair folk, when Eärendil asked her, in a voice of such heartfelt earnestness that she nearly pushed him down and rubbed his face in the mud, if she wanted to meet Ulmo.
“Er,” she said, instead of enacting violence, “I don’t know. I’m not wild about strangers.”
Eärendil, who was not so easily dissuaded once he had set his course, did not laugh. “But he knows you already. It is only your heart that is estranged.”

Elwing, Eärendil, and the gifts of the River.

“What if,” said Manwë, regarding Maedhros with star-bright eyes, blue as sapphires and piercing as blades, “you were sent from these Halls for a purpose, son of Fëanáro?”
“I suppose, my lord,” Maedhros said slowly, “that would depend upon the purpose.”

Maedhros is sent back to Middle-earth, in the company of the Maia Olórin. 

Rescued from a brutal Angband hunt, an ex-thrall with a strange and powerful artifact embedded in his spine is brought to Himring, for it is one of the only places in Beleriand which welcomes such folk. Though he has no memories of his life before, Anniavas slowly becomes accustomed to his new life and finds he has a queer connection with Maedhros, Himring's lord. As their intimacy grows, however, so do the dangers surrounding them, both without and within. What secrets are hidden inside the depths of Anniavas's lost memories--and how will those with whom he is forging and deepening bonds react, when those secrets are at last revealed?

This is my new poetical attempt to add my own interpretation to Tolkien's Cosmology as to Eru's Creation and the Valar's minds and behind-the-scene providence reasons and mechanisms.. I often review Eä as part of our own world, just in another dimension, this is why I have always seriously thought on the matter who the Ainur are, who Eru is, how he matches our own religious pantheon, and this has been conducted after serious research of many esoteric teachings of our own planet's heritage.

When Finwë's wife Miriel died, leaving behind their young daughter Fëanor, Finwë petitioned the Valar for permission to remarry. Although he loved his daughter dearly, he said, he needed a son who could be his heir.

Or: Genderswapped Noldor politics, from Fëanor daughter of Finwë to Gil-galad daughter of Orodreth. 

Erestor lay up against a tree, brown washed to black in the wet of the snow. The black disc of the new moon sailed across the dark sky. Erestor wished it were gone. He had no need to look into dark eyes any longer.

He was dying.

(AKA Erestor unwittingly travels back in time to the days between the Dagor Bragollach and the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, meets the sons of Feanor, Thingol and his ilk, many Laiquendi, many Dwarves, and Men besides, and THEN decides to solve the drowning of Beleriand himself. This has nothing to do with his personal problems. Nope. Not at all. Erestor is having regular feelings.)

This is basically the background smut for ‘Yet We’re It’s Making Good, For This’ 😅

During the great journey, there was a lot of trying out amongst the Quendi. And from some trying out, there came more…

(Written for Silmsmutweek 2023)

I made a project out of this year’s Silmsmutweek, to accompany the line of the Peredhel through the Ages.

1) Spring; prompts: ritual sex, bathing and washing. Melian and Elu beget their daughters.

2) Summer; prompts: sport and competition. Finally allowed to live their love makes Arwen and Aragorn light-headed with bliss. That, and a little too much wine for the newly crowned King of Gondor. (Not explicit)

3) Autumn; prompts: canon ships, blanket; my first drabble. On a chill afternoon in autumn, Celebrían finds her husband dozing, and finds that something has to be done about it (Not explicit)

4)Fading; prompts: water sports. Elwing can’t have what she wants, and Eärendil has to suffer for it. (He loves every moment of it, though)

5) Winter; prompts: throne sex. Dior has doubts whether he will ever see himself as the King of Doriath. Nimloth finds that it is time for him to truly claim the throne.

6) Stirring; prompts: erotic dance and acrobatics. Ficlet. Beren watches Lúthien dance, and feels life stir in him again. And other things.

7) Dark; prompts borrowed from another day: rare-pair. This one is weird. No more needs to be said

Roverandom and the Sea Rover find a crab on the beach--not unusual in itself, except this one smells like magic. 

But how could they ever think to sleep on a night such as this? Their hours together are already so short, and in these days of encroaching darkness they only grow shorter. Tonight Fingon’s bed is warm, and Fingon is also, and Maedhros is loath to close his eyes even long enough to blink.

***

Maedhros, Fingon, and their final night together before the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.

In the last days of Númenor, two very different men meet in Umbar and fall in love.

(Please note that while this work is heavily inspired by Disco Elysium, no knowledge of the game is necessary to read the fic!)

Concerned by his responses to the paraphernalia of healing, Fingon steals Maedhros from his room for an impromptu garden excursion. Maedhros battles with dark thoughts.

On the night before the battle, Caranthir and his ally share thoughts about their peoples' traditions:

Burning bones ward off evil.

A March-Warden assists the last of the refugees from Doriath to the Falls of Sirion after the sons of Feanor assail Menegroth.
 

Melkor has himself a bad time in the Void. 

The Halls of Nienna are infinite, for so is grief. Within it lie the waters of the Ekkaia, the sea that surrounds the world, fed by Nienna's tears and the tears of her children. Finarfin is not like his brothers, not wise or brave or clever, but when he cried the Valar did not shut him out.