New and Updated Fiction

This is a treat for the TRSB art 47 : Bird friend, by starlightwalking

Tyelkormo and Huan are walking in the Woods, enjoying a fine spring day when Huan finds a lost chick on the floor, under a nest.

story for art 68 TRSB 2024 - In every wood in every spring there's a different green by FakeCirilla9

The 'wilds' of Valinor seen through the eyes of Tyelkormo and his family: from Tyelkormo's birth during a long journey, to the introduction of little Telperinquar to the natural wildlife of Valinor.

Written for art 86 - Dream of the Forest, by Sallysavestheday, for Scribbles & Drabbles 2024

Celegorm was dreaming.
He was aware that he was dreaming: he knew faintly, distantly, that he was in Beleriand, and yet…

Story for art 88 - Nessie in lake Mithrim by Octopus_fool for Scribbles and Drabbles 2024

Tyelkormo was busy going over hunt rotation and reports from his people when a child came to him, running:
“Prin.Prince, there’s a… A thing in the water. King Makalaurë said to come.” The child said, panting.

Written for art 147 - Blorbo’s first lemon by octopus_fool for Scribbles & Drabbles 2024.

Tyelkormo was at home when his brother came to ask him to pick up lemons for their mother, and to babysit his son.

This is a story for art 87 - Aromantic and asexual pride by daughterofshadows for Scribbles and Drabbles 2024

Upon his return from his most recent hunt with Oromë’s people, Tyelkormo saw a servant of the house come to him in a hurry.
“Prince Tyelkormo, your father wishes to speak to you at the earliest possibility.”
Tyelkormo snorted at that, faintly amused. His father certainly didn’t word it this way.

Written for art 154 Archery Practice by ethanray for Scribbles & Drabbles 2024.

Tyelkormo comes to Aredhel's house to teach her archery.

Celegorm suddenly felt like he was suffocating.

In a moment in Himring, Celegorm felt that Huan was dead.

Celebrimbor broke the tools his father gave him.
It was the last thing he had of his family.

For B2MEM, day 1 : The prompt was: Coming home / Reunion / Missing somebody.

In the end, the master of lies made the mistake of underestimating him. 
A story of Celebrimbor, the last of the House of Fëanor in Middle-erath.

Gloredhel writes to her brother, after his sons have gone missing.
We know that Hurin and Huor were rescued by Eagles and carried to Gondolin, but their relatives, at this point, don't.

A series of half-drabbles using the one word prompts for the March/April 2025 Birthday Bash Challenge, looking at the perception of time through the eyes of Maiar (in general) and Maedhros (specifically).

Finrod is truamatized from the sudden responsibility thrust upon him and from crossing the Helcaraxë. When he receives a message stating the Petty-dwarves of Nargothrond plan to murder his people, he exiles them. Mîm decides to assassinate Finrod to stop him. What could go wrong?

The fall of Fingolfin from Fingon's perspective

Written for Orctober, this work contains the fanworks created in response to the prompts, centering around Dugbúrz, an orc who attempts to escape from Thangorodrim.

Mithrellas has arrived too late at Belfalas to meet Amroth alive, but she hears his voice on the wind.

An old spring festival is revived in Lindon.

Níniel comforts Finduilas after a nightmare.

Much is said in the tales of Turin and of Tuor about the severity of the Fell Winter.

But what would it be like when such a long winter was finally over?

Usually, the Elves appreciate being heard by Varda and call on her.

Galadriel finds herself making an exception.

But Fëanor was not held guiltless, for he it was that had broken the peace of Valinor and drawn his sword upon his kinsman; and Mandos said to him: “Thou speakest of thraldom. If thraldom it be, thou canst not escape it; for Manwë is King of Arda, and not of Aman only. And this deed was unlawful, whether in Aman or not in Aman. Therefore this doom is now made: for twelve years thou shalt leave Tirion where this threat was uttered. In that time take counsel with thyself, and remember who and what thou art. But after that time this matter shall be set in peace and held redressed, if others will release thee.”

“Well that’s rather stupid,” Fingolfin says.

Fingolfin would like to say that it was an accident. And perhaps if it had started and ended with a kiss he could have lied to himself and said that. As it is, it’s rather hard to say it was an accident when it has gone well past a kiss.

Fëanor does not even get a chance to finish being annoying before Fingolfin’s eyes flash with something far too dark to be only fury and his hand snaps out to grab a handful of Fëanor’s hair. He wrenches Fëanor’s head back in a move that is so surprisingly painful it throws him off balance. In the same moment he kicks Fëanor’s feet out from under him and slams him to his knees. He forgets sometimes he thinks, feeling a bit dazed, that Fingolfin had not only fought Morgoth, but lasted an impressive amount of time against him.

Fingolfin pulls his head back until they lock eyes, says, “Why must you be so—” his voice cracks, anger seeping out of every fracture line cracking through his body. He studies the ice in Fingolfin’s eyes and thinks, we never talked about the boats. Not in truth. 

In which Celegorm tries to do some reconnaissance on Doriath, finds some children in the woods, does his good deed for the century, and promptly gets taken prisoner for it.

Dior's bitter he can't just murder Celegorm. After all, he's not one of the eldar, it doesn't count as kinslaying if he does it.

Nimloth's impressed no one is dead yet and plans on keeping it that way for as long as possible.

“Dior, son of Luthien,” Námo intones, “you do not belong in these halls. I will show you the way to where your path is meant to lead.”

Celegorm looks to Dior and tilts his head in curiosity at the defiant look being directed at Námo. “No,” Dior says, voice hard. “I feel no call to follow the path of men. I will stay in the halls with my kin.”

“I was not presenting it as a choice,” Námo says severely and Celegorm frowns. Sees Curufin across the room shaking his head and gesturing for Celegorm to join him. He thinks to but then looks at Dior again and gets distracted by the look on his face.

An animal backed into a corner, his mind supplies, glancing down at the way Dior’s fingers are beginning to press into Celegorm’s fëa  from how hard he is gripping Celegorm’s wrist.

Dior bares his teeth. “I was not either."