New and Updated Fiction

5 key instances in Turin's tragic life

Glingaereth meets the crown prince of the Noldor by chance, if chance you call it.

“All the same, sister, be careful.”
“Me?” Glingaereth said. “Careful of what?”
“Of that prince.”
“What, Fingon? If you are worried about the Noldor’s feuds, he is the one who brought them to an end.”
Limbeleth shook her head. “I can’t explain it. It isn’t that you need worry about him, but—I have an uneasy feeling about them all, and I feel also that you will be bound up in their fate somehow.”

Aboard Galdor's warship, Glorfindel returns in triumph from a dangerous expedition deep into enemy territory. He has found Elrond's missing son, but all is not well: the Elf-child that was abducted by the Corsairs of Umbar is now a Man grown. War and darkness have left Elrohir deeply scarred, and he is not the mission's only casualty.

An alternate universe for the Under Strange Stars series, in which Elrohir goes with Glorfindel instead of running away from him after the events of Under Strange Stars. This story covers the events of ‘Northern Skies’, but it can be enjoyed without having read the original.

Many thanks to Grundy for all of her excellent beta-reading and brainstorming.e

As the Fourth Age begins, Elu Thingol at last returns from the Halls of Mandos.

Galadriel does not see what she wants to see in the High King.

They say there are cities far to the East and South, for those who can find them, whose entire populations slowly forgot the need for flesh and faded into memory of routine, living in their empty homes and walking their empty streets even when those homes and streets are no more.

For thousands of years the City has awaited you.

The sons of Fëanor find their places. Or lose them.

The Singer at the Shore reminisces on mornings, and meets a stranger.

"...for none of the Eldalië ever hated Melkor more than Fëanor son of Finwë, who first named him Morgoth; and snared though he was in the webs of Melkor's malice against the Valar he held no converse with him and took no counsel from him."

Fëanor meets a stranger. There aren't many strangers in Tirion.

And even after he and Lúthien settled in Tol Galen, where the air smelled of roses and pine and the nightingales sang merrily through the summertime, word of the outside word came in bits and pieces, often many years late.

Early in the Second Age, Gil-galad receives an important collaborator.

After the Nírnaeth Arnoediad, Celegorm and Curufin occasionally range far from Amon Ereb in an attempt to stem the tide of Morgoth's armies into Beleriand somewhat. This kind of idleness does not become the Oath once the Silmaril has appeared in Doriath again; Celegorm only needs a willing ear.

The academic conversation that stood at the beginning of the end.

Celegorm, Curufin, a balcony of Finwë's royal residence, oblique discussions of death before death became more than an abstraction. And a little bit of parkour.

Fingon attends a concert given by the Tirion Academic Symphony.

From an account of an enslaved Elf in Angband.

Amrod and Aredhel shared a common ending in being killed by people they loved. Making peace with that pain in Valinor is hard.

Maedhros and Fingon meet in the mists, again and again. Until they don't.

What bow, what arrows will serve against such a foe as Glaurung? A single drabble.

The competition cocktail party was a regular event, and Fingon gradually learned to appreciate, if not always enjoy it.

A triple drabble, with images and recipes for 9 cocktails.

Círdan's ship arrives in Forochel to take Arvedui south.

Celegorm and Dior speak.  A sequel to Broken Silver.  Canon divergence AU.

Sometimes the history books can't be trusted. Celegorm/Lúthien; canon divergence AU in which the butterfly flaps its wings.

Fëanáro needs Melkor's secret knowledge to create his Silmarils, but Fëanáro will also be an invaluable asset to Melkor in the Vala’s own game.

How oddly the old tales changed and twisted through the years!

There came a time of winter, when night was dark and without moon; and the wide plain of Ard-galen stretched dim beneath the cold stars, from the hill-forts of the Noldor to the feet of Thangorodrim. The watchfires burned low, and the guards were few;

The Silmarillion - JRR Tolkien