New and Updated Fiction

Maglor encounters Maedhros in an unexpected place. His explanations are not satisfactory.

Anaire forgives Fingolfin in pieces.

Since the debacle of Master Baggins and his companions’ first stay at the Prancing Pony, Barliman had been less quick to invite strangers out to the common room. But everyone loved a good song and a bit of news, and he said so as he left the room. “You’d be right welcome if you wanted to join us,” he added.

They would all suffer for this. But at least the elf was gone.

If only that had been true.

 

(Beleg and Andróg deal with feelings. Badly.)

Reborn in Valinor, Glorfindel prepares for a momentous decision with the support of an old friend.

(For hennethgalad.)

Before there was anything, there was Nothing.

...

He remembered this. The memory of Nothing had faded, lost, but the impression of starlight through his eyelids and the dazzling shine when he opened his eyes was unforgettable. It was Him, now, though he would not choose a name for many years. He knew who he was, but he did not have the words for it yet.

“Now, my lord, you must keep still.”

Melkor was not entirely certain how he had gotten himself into this situation. No, that was not true. He knew what he had said; he had complained to Mairon of some inconsequential matter, and the Lieutenant had responded sharply that he needed to learn some patience. And of course, he had not been able to hold his tongue, and he had demanded that Mairon teach him.

(Tolkien Secret Santa Advent (NSFW) Calendar Day 19: Wax Play)

"You look admirable indeed like this, Zigûr."

Mairon goes to great lengths to get on the King's good side.

(Tolkien Secret Santa Advent (NSFW) Calendar Day 22: Ice Cubes)

Melimo, Fingon’s architect, defending the fortress he built against overwhelming force, after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.

Annatar sets up a meeting with Telperinquar and it goes much better than he expected.

For Sally_the_Sunflower.

This was why he hated riding; most of the time it was dull and soggy and messy. Though he did have a nice view of Glorfindel’s hair, the waves of Valinorean gold tumbling down his back. Glorfindel almost never wore it up - at most, Erestor had seen the front sections adorned and braided for special occasions. Erestor didn’t know how he coped; his own hair constantly got in his way.

Erestor’s mind drifted. Glorfindel’s hair was like silk over his skin, brushing against him when he leaned over Erestor, smooth and soft and…

For platinum_firebird for My Slashy Valentine 2022

There was nothing better after a hunt than a soak in the springs. Hidden deep in the caves of Oromë’s forests, the hollow was thick with steam, and so warm that sweat beaded on Tyelko’s brow in moments.

He wasted no time, his tunic and trousers dumped in a heap, boots thrown haphazardly on top. Ammë always said he was less house trained than Huan.

(Tolkien Secret Santa NSFW Advent Calendar Day 6: Hotsprings & Onsens)

Winter snows blanketed the forests. The trees bent under its weight, the leaves sparse, the shrubs bare. Shimmering crystals of ice formed out of the dew, glittering in the white starlight.  In these deep dark hours, the mist gave the woodland a dreamlike haze, curling around the bare feet of the two elves, but its chill did not disturb them.

~

Beleg, Mablung, and winter in Nan Elmoth.

(For Tolkien Secret Santa 2022, for tumblr user lycheesodas)

The story of Ernis, wife of Fingon, and Erien, their daughter.

Fëanor tolerates his brothers' children. Aredhel, however, he enjoys.

Maglor had not, in fact, lost the capacity to care for another.

Non-angsty ficlets set in Valinor (and one or two in Middle Earth), many featuring Feanor.

Aredhel has returned to Gondolin, but she desires more than to be bound to a place and a person again.

Celegorm loves. Aredhel does, too - but not quite.

“I’m in love with you,” Fingon says one morning in September.

Maedhros is perched on the couch’s armrest, bent down, struggling to tie his laces. He looks up at Fingon as the words sink in. His unbound hair makes a curtain in front of his eyes, and he can only see parts of him, the hand on his shoulder bag, the golden beads in his perfectly braided hair, his hesitant, expectant smile.

His face falls the longer Maedhros takes to answer. They’re running late for the meeting, and there’s a lead weight in Maedhros’s gut that pulls painfully as words fail to form on his lips. I’m in love with you too, the words are right there, but it’s like someone has sucked all the sound out of him.

A young Númenorean has a close encounter with a deity of his mother's people.

Fëanor and Maedhros craft a gift that lasts for generations.

Caranthir manages Maedhros' recovery from torment on Thangorodrim. A treat for TRSB 2023.

‘None of the Valar, but the King rides upon Rochallor, his great steed. Yea, and wrathful he is, flying ahead as an arrow.’

-

Ard-galen witnesses Fingolfin's final stand.

The sea is full of dangers, and the Straight Road is no exception.

As my people now leave these shores behind, it is my hope that this book will be of aid to those who choose to sail in the years to come.

May it guide you safely across the sea and to the shores of Valinor and may the wind and the waves be ever in your favour.

 

"Travel advice was very helpful, but we were glad the people of Dol Amroth helped us to build the boat. 4/5 stars." - L&G

 

"Perhaps finding this book was a sign to finally sail and face whatever awaits me across the sea." - M. F.

 

"Mighty helpful book. Wouldn't have made it across the sea without it. Hope I'll get to say thank you in person someday. 5/5 stars." - S. G.