New and Updated Writing

In the Greenwood a contest is held each autumn to choose the Leader of the Hunt.

Child Makalaurë is just learning to play the harp, and as all students do at times, he overdid it...

Inspired by a real-time event, harp strings are pure evil.

An elf escapes from Angband and earns himself a new name.

That was how it had begun, that hope for a tangible reminder of the past, of victory and hope against the odds. Two candles then for what was lost, and wine and bread for those still living.

Controversy rages at the Games as the House of Fëanor is accused of using performance enhancing drugs.

Arvedui Last-King found second love in the frozen lands of the North. Now, though, he has determined to go home, despite his lover's misgivings. Is braving the Ice Bay worth the risk when Angmar's sorcerer King is on the move?

Adolescent Earendil and Elwing have a conversation by the sea-wall, interrupted by a rather adorable friend.

In which Nerdanel tries to sneak some cookies and takes a small tumble. Luckily, Papa is there to help!

Melian, scrying in the lake of Lorellin, sees a troubling sight - and her great-granddaughter is equally troubled by the repetition of troubles throughout her life and their people's.

Amrod and Amras, reborn in Valinor, come to see Elwing. Podfic of Anna_Wing's story.

The Eglath were lost without Elwe. But eventually, they found him. What did that reunion look like? Let's find out.

In Sirion, Elwing has a Silmaril in her possession... And in Amon Ereb, The Oath is awakening in the remaining sons of Feanor. 

From their flight from Himlad to their flight from Nargothrond, Celegorm and Curufin have to face the abyss of their defeat, the bitterness of their broken pride, and the tempting shadows of greed. Through envy, frustration, pain and resentment, they have to choose which path to follow, not yet aware that their choices will affect all the people of Beleriand.

Curufin's pov.

Canon based, more like a personal combination between the different versions given in HoME and the Silmarillion. 

It's the Fifth Age. Tirion has developed suburban sprawl, and psychotherapists are in high demand. An unkinged Finarfin experiments with political radicalism and has turned the palace into a memorial of the kinslaying. Amarië composes beat poetry. And Finrod has been reembodied into a world and among people he barely recognizes. Dark humor, for Kenaz for the Around the Fire challenge.

In Fifth Age Tirion, Caranthir has been reembodied into a changed world: his uncle has unkinged himself and turned Tirion into a republic, Elves live in suburbs and seek psychotherapy, and the Noldor born after his exile have invented all kinds of wondrous things. One day, Caranthir receives a letter that he is being entrusted to mentor his newly reembodied cousin Orodreth. They must not only resolve their old enmity but achieve a tenuous friendship--maybe even more?--as both seek the peace and acceptance they never found in their prior lives. Written for TRSB 2019, based on the artwork by NelyafinweFeanorion.

Against Maedhros's wishes, Fingon is off to a summer retreat in the mountains, a retreat designed by the Valar for newly reembodied Elves. Amid games of kickball and group therapy, Fingon makes a friend, discovers the Noldor haven't actually invented everything, and begins to grasp the complexities of his post-reembodiment relationship with Maedhros. Maedhros/Fingon, set in my Republic of Tirion verse.

In Himring, Maedhros and Maglor hold the fortress, when they finally receive a message.

The children of elves die easily, for their souls are thinly bound to their bodies and their fate is to endure but not survive. So when faced with a young hostage he really can't afford to let fade away, Sauron is very careful not to do anything too traumatizing.

(Mostly.)

Luckily Feanor's grandson is an interesting child to babysit.

“You are the forest, Nimrodel. The light that filters through the leaves, the starlight in the pools, the flowers. I look at you and I see the earth, black and red and white. I see the flowers, elanor and niphredil. The strength of stone and the transparent delicacy of the spring tadpoles. I did not think much of being a prince of this place before you taught me how to love it.”

Alone on the shore, after Sauron's defeat, Maglor watches a ship leave Middle Earth and writes in a notebook a letter that he would never send.

"Cytise knows exactly what the elf is."

Balan-who-will-be-Bëor comes to some conclusions about his new friend after said new friend demonstrates a terrifying knowledge of venomous snakes.

In conclusion, Finarfin was a reptile hoarder and also elves might be poisonous.

“... The brave Goldilocks didn’t cower before the Great Slug! He took up his sword once more and held the vicious beast at bay as Princess Silverfoot led all the people out of the Flower Kingdom."

Bilbo updates and localizes the Fall of Gondolin for a small and hobbitish audience.

Hopefully Glorfindel, a good chap if there ever was one, won't mind the tactful translation.

They're important, the myths people tell about themselves, about their histories. You can learn a lot from a tale or seven.

Eärendil

(Embracing the SILMARIL OF AIR)

Let followers of the patroneʃs of stars

Wear the mantles of their mighty host

Whilʃt I, a sailor of beaches and bars,

Tremble before beauty that makes all else toaʃt

Princes of elves have slavered o'er light

And jealous women caʃt away their frame

But it’s I, a man of little might

Who sits in jewellight, triumphs over flame

“Yikes,” said Gil-Galad, High King of the Noldor.