New Challenge: Crossroads of the Fallen King
Cross "The Silmarillion" with a second text or fandom in this month's crossover challenge.
SWG News
A Sense of History: Thálatta! Thálatta!
While he never climbs the stairs of this Elf-tower, in Lothlórien Frodo Baggins descends a flight of steps to look into Galadriel’s Mirror, wherein he first sees the sea. This post examines the view.
Choose a Name for Our New Column!
Our temporarily titled "location bio" will focus on the landscapes and locations of Middle-earth. We need your help naming it!
New Challenge: Tengwar
Each day for thirty-six days, we feature a randomly chosen letter from the Tengwar as a prompt.
New & Updated Fanworks
[Writing] Apprentice by Quente
Dior is in Menegroth learning to be his grandfather's heir -- but his grandmother decides to take him as apprentice too.
Written for the Tengwar Challenge, May 15: Súlë (spirit).
[Writing] Tengwar: To The Letter by cuarthol
For the Tengwar prompt challenge.
All 36 prompts plus bonus chapter
[Writing] A blip on the radar by daughterofshadows
Humanity took to the skies. Eärendil and Ilmarë adjust.
[Writing] History abandons us by AdmirableMonster
During his incarceration in Roderick Burgess' basement, Dream receives a strange, ancient visitor.
[Writing] Tengwar Acrostics by Himring
Responses to the Tengwar Challenge in which first letters spell out the name of a tengwa.
1) Early Encounter (Nerdanel, Indis)
2) Numenorean Lullaby (Almarian, Aldarion)
[Writing] Tengwar Drabbles by cílil
A collection of Silmarillion-centric drabbles written for the Tengwar Challenge. Short and sweet!
[Writing] If i get home before daylight by BloodwingBlackbird
a traveler meets a stranger at a crossroads.
Current Challenge
Crossroads of the Fallen King
Create a fanwork that crosses with a second text or fandom. Read more ...
Tengwar
A daily prompt of a Tengwar letter per day. Read more ...
Random Challenge
Differing Perspectives
Remix another author's fanwork (with their permission!) by rewriting it from another character's perspective. Read more ...
New in References
Thálatta! Thálatta! by Simon J. Cook
[]While he never climbs the stairs of this Elf-tower, in Lothlórien Frodo Baggins descends a flight of steps to look into Galadriel’s Mirror, wherein he first sees the sea. This post examines the view.
[]
With Gildor Inglorion we finally climb the stairs of Elostirion and look on the view, and what we see appears to reveal a hidden thread in the story of Frodo Baggins. This post reads two annotated translations of two Elvish songs to step through a crossroads in the narrative to arrive at the tower on the margin of the story, wherein is a stone that is a window onto Valinor.
Grief, Grieving, and Permission to Mourn in the "Quenta Silmarillion" by Dawn Walls-Thumma
[]In a book as full of death as the Quenta Silmarillion, grief and mourning are surprisingly absent. The characters who receive grief and mourning—and those who don't—appear to do so due to narrative bias. Grief and mourning (or a lack of them) serve to draw attention toward and away from objectionable actions committed by characters.
Beyond the Silmarillion
[Writing] Waybread (The Waybredlik) by Himring
[]Lembas speaks out.
[Series] Apr 1st Stories by Uvatha the Horseman
[]Once a year on April 1st, a canon character from LOTR or the Silmarillion gets pranked.
[Writing] Crossing Forest River by Dawn Felagund
[]Bilbo recounts, in verse, the attempt of Gandalf, Beorn, and him to cross the Forest River after the Battle of Five Armies. Written for the Hungarian Tolkien Society's 2024 Mailing Competition.
Around the World and Web
Mythcon 53: Fantasies of the Middle Lands
Mythcon 53 will be held 2-5 August 2024 in Minneapolis, Minnesota, with the theme "Fantasies of the Middle Lands."
Teitho May/June Challenge: Joker
For the May/June Teitho challenge, you can pick ANY of our past challenges that stir your imagination and write a story or create art for it.
Monstrous May 2024
Monstrous May is a Tumblr event where, for each day of the month of May, there is a prompt involving and invoking the monstrous.
Fellowship of the Fics: Modern AU May
During May, Fellowship of the Fics offers modern AU prompt lists for setting, character occupation, and dialogue on Tumblr.
May challenge at tolkienshortfanworks
The May challenge has been posted to the tolkienshortfanworks community on Dreamwidth. Thematic challenge: name; formal challenge: acrostic. As usual, these can be filled independently and freely combined with other prompts such as the SWG challenges. New participants welcome!
In Dreams, To Whom I Never Have by wind rider
| | |
Colours of a Dream
Title: In dreams, To Whom I Never Have: Colours of a Dream
Author: Eärillë
Number: I21
Challenges:
1. Colours: Purple
2. Emotions: Awe
3. Silmarillion vs Harry Potter Matches: Fëanor vs Ginny Weasley
Summary:
Sometimes the dream that comes true is more horrifying than the dream itself, and living the said dream is even worse. A seven-year-old Ginny Weasley experiences that first-hand. But perhaps, there will still be a silver-lining even in the worst situation?
Rating: G
Warnings: first draft
Characters: Maedhros, Maglor, Fëanor, Ginny Weasley
Genres: Crossover, Friendship, Mystery
Place: Tirion: outside of
Timeline: Year of Trees: Noontide of Valinor
Word Count (in MS Word): 1,220
Notes:
The author originally wanted to post this fic for SWG’s Birthday Challenge in 2010, but did not get it in time. With a few additions and tweaks, here it is again, presented anew. And the credit again goes to Dawn Felagund’s marvellous work Another Man’s Cage, of which the author borrowed many things for this (chaptered) story. It is all in third person limited point of view and past tense, though, unlike in AMC.
In this chapter (and the next ones), Maedhros (Maitimo, Russandol, Nelyo) is 48 years old, Maglor (Makalaurë or Káno) is 39 years old, Celegorm (Tyelkormo or Turko) is 14 years old, and Caranthir (Carnistir or Moryo) is 3 years old. In human standard, their ages are roughly comparable to (respectively) 16 ½, 15, 7 and 3 (or 2 ½) years old.
In Dreams, To Whom I Never Have
Chapter 2: Colours of a Dream
Ginny regained awareness still resting against the man’s shoulder, held securely and cradled like a child much smaller than she was. It embarrassed her to no end, and yet she was inwardly pleased. Her father had not held her like this for quite a long time, being too busy with his job in the Ministry of Magic and his Muggle toys, and she had forgotten how it had felt. It was so comfortable…
The man did a sitting-down motion and she could not help but stir. Where had he brought her to? It felt slightly different from the large open field they had traversed before. For one, there was a lot of tree-shade here, like in the woods near her home.
She raised her head slightly and peeked over his shoulder. Spying red apples hanging from a low branch, she suspected that they were sitting in an orchard. It baffled her though. She had not glimpsed anything resembling even a clump of trees on their way to the weird mansion! How big was the man’s home then? The thought alone daunted her, but she did not dare raise any objection when the man put her down on the bench beside him. He left then, and she felt bereft like she had never before even when Bill – her eldest brother – had first gone to Hogwarts. It did not help that he did not return for a long time, during which she only dared look around, touching nothing and sitting nearly motionless on the garden bench.
At length though, she spied something that made her greatly curious. Breeze was stirring the leaves of the apple trees around her, and light filtered through the leaves and branches here and there along the rustling motion of the trees. But it was not the ordinary daylight that she had suspected. Instead, it was a rich gold colour that would make the sun pale in comparison. It made her want to touch it, to feel it, to seek it...
She jumped down from the bench as if in a trance, scampering along the path and looking up, always looking up to the gaps in the foliage. Was this why everything had looked so much more vibrant back then in the lawn? Because there was something that rivalled the sun here? Was it even possible?
And then, after much stumbling and flailing, she came suddenly upon a grassy clearing ringed by pear trees and purple-flowered bushes.
However briefly she had been in this strange place, she had taken for granted how green and nearly-translucent the grass-blades were. And now the ambient light also made the soft purple hue of the wide-petalled flowers so much richer…
She gazed long at the flowers, taking in and admiring their beauty, then laid herself on the grass and looked up towards the sky.
There was no sun there. Instead, a flickering light bathed the expanse with a bright, bold golden hue that seemed so… alive, for lack of a better word. Ginny watched every minute shift of the golden shades avidly, her mouth gaping. It was so beautiful! So other-worldly, yet somehow recogniseable and so lovely…
It topped off all the rich things she had seen so far.
She loved it.
But what was it?
She wanted to touch it, dance with it, hold it, be one with it…
As taken as she was with the view above, she was not aware of a shadow looming nearby. She only realised that she had company when a fingertip alit softly on her right shoulder, startling her. Sitting up and curling into a defensive position, she stared wide-eyed at the intruder of her peace.
Which turned out to be the man from earlier. He was gazing oddly at her, with the familiar sharpness but with more calculation involved. The emotion lurking in the depths of his bright grey eyes was more prominant too, tickling at her sense of curiosity mercilessly. What was he thinking about? Where had he been? Why so long? Why had he come back again? What would he do to her now?
He reached out a hand at her, palm up, as if in supplication, gift-giving… or an offer to come with him. She stared at the appendage with uncertainty and no small amount of apprehention. Where would he lead her to? What was his intention with her then? Would she be safe with him?
Her stomach growled with hunger. It decided it for her. Shily – and hoping that he would not betray her trust – she unclasped her right hand from her left one around her knees and lay it atop the man’s.
It was like a tightly-coreographed drama or a careful dance, the way he almost gingerly curled his fingers around hers and grasp her hand, rising up and pulling her with him. But they did not immediately walk away. Instead, he seemed to take his time scrutinising her – again – from head to toe, as if discovering something he had missed before and in – dared she hope? – hidden delight.
When he finally looked away, she peeked aside to the rest of the clearing, saying a silent good-bye. It was too lovely to leave so soon, with the lush grass and purple flowers and golden not-sun, but she did not dare defy the mysterious, scary man.
Her heart leapt when he dragged her to one of the bushes, which bore the most flowers. He picked one of the biggest purple flowers and slipped it amidst her tangled hair, all in a nonchalant manner, as if they had done this for countless times already.
Her breath caught in her throat, and her chest squeezed painfully. Dad…
They immediately left the clearing, thankfully. Ginny did not know how long she could fend back her tears, if they had staid longer. Her home-sickness had returned with a vengeance. But she also did not know if there would be others that would incite the tears anew once they left the orchard, as she knew absolutely nothing of this place and the people in it. Did the man have family? How would they react when – or if? – he presented her to them? Would he ever present her to them in the first place?
Her uncertainty was soothed when they once again crossed the large expanse of lawn towards the sprawling house.
Two horse-riders were crossing the field closest to the house in a leisurely pace, two people looking to be Bill’s age who bore rather close resemblance to the man whose hand was gripping her own tightly. (They seemed to be returning from a trip, judging from the bags and bundles they carried on the backs of their horses.) They seemed to notice the unlikely pair and zoned in on her; and their curious gaze, sensed even from afar, sharpened. Ginny wished she could shrink into herself and hide among the lush grass, or perhaps behind the man’s back. But the man waved them away, in the same pointed manner, and they obeyed.
Ginny and the man crossed the remaining distance from the house afterwards without any other incident. She felt strangely pleased about that, and how the man had handled who most likely were his relatives, if not his sons. She was more assured that he would protect her, if everything went figuratively downhill.
