Love, Not Wisdom (Drabbles about Men) by Elrond's Library
Fanwork Notes
- Fanwork Information
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Summary:
A collection of drabbles primarily featuring male characters from the Legendarium
Major Characters:
Major Relationships:
Genre: Fixed-Length Ficlet
Challenges:
Rating: Teens
Warnings: Creator Chooses Not to Warn
Chapters: 5 Word Count: 560 Posted on Updated on This fanwork is a work in progress.
In Defense of Feanor (Maedhros & Fingolfin & Finwe)
prompt: silence, thunder, guilt, secrets
Read In Defense of Feanor (Maedhros & Fingolfin & Finwe)
Russandol stared out his window, lost in thought. Rain beat a steady beat on the glass; thunder cracked in the distance. Tirion spread out below him, a silent city, still and tense. His grandfather and uncle were waiting for an answer, but he had none he could give them. Secrets were to be kept close; guilt buried under the pressure of loyalty and love. It was best, he knew, if they did not know what exactly his father was making, or how much. How the paranoia ran deep, infectious.
“He does nothing that will harm you, haru. Nor you, Nolofinwë.”
Not Enough (Celebrimbor & Namo)
Prompt: faint, light, voice, calm
Read Not Enough (Celebrimbor & Namo)
Námo’s presence was quiet in the Halls. He stepped lightly, slippers whispering over stone and carpet. He kept a calm voice, an attentive mein, a faint smile, throughout the centuries, even as the inhabitants of his realm – hurting, grieving, sick – raged and wept. The light of stars wheeled overhead as he traversed the Halls, searching for one particular fëa. He found it alone in a long hallway, staring at a tapestry.
“Come, young one. You have waited long enough. He who has done evil to you has returned to Eru, and you will be safe in Aman. Come.”
“And if I refuse?” the fëa of Celebrimbor whispered.
“Such a thing is your choice. But this is not a place for you. You yearn for the wind and the trees and the stars, do you not?”
“I do. I yearn for family and craft. But it is not enough to yearn.”
Kinslayer Twice Over (Fingon/Maedhros)
mountains, sky, sunlight, choose AND I want to believe that real love's got blood in it
Read Kinslayer Twice Over (Fingon/Maedhros)
The jagged mountains rose high, piercing the sky with knife-like peaks. Fingon gazed up at the emaciated form of his husband, hanging there on the cliff. The sunlight bright song died on his lips. Dread swept through him, pooling in his stomach.
“Release me.” Maedhros’ voice cracked.
“Do not make me a kinslayer twice over,” Fingon begged. “Not you.”
“Mandos is calling; you can answer.”
“I can find a way up!”
“No. At least this way, it is one whom I love that will bloody me, and not our foe.”
“Do not make me choose,” Fingon whispered into the wind.
Hope for the Hopeless (Fingon & Turgon)
prompts; midnight, weary, sorrow, truly AND joy was his song and joy so pure/a heart of star by him could steer
Read Hope for the Hopeless (Fingon & Turgon)
"Utúlie'n aurë! The day has come!" Fingon cried over the battlefield. He grinned, blood splattered across his face, staining the golden ribbons in his hair black. His shield was notched, his sword still keen after days of slaughter. Sorrow and weariness could not touch him now, for his brother had appeared on the horizon with the fabled people of Gondolin. He laughed, new energy and true joy beating back the midnight blackness of dread, his limbs already lighter as he faced down another orc. His brother! "Aurë entuluva! Day shall come again!" came the answering cry from his bannerman, Húrin.
Not Him (Elrond/Gil-Galad)
truth, doubt, alive, fate
Read Not Him (Elrond/Gil-Galad)
Elrond did not, could not believe the truth in front of his eyes. He must be alive, he must be able to be saved. Fate would not be so needlessly cruel, would not rip them apart after so long by each other’s sides. The rent and ruined form of his beloved, his King, his reason for not disappearing into the wilds following the death of his twin – surely, surely the body in front of him was not his Ereinion. Please, Elbereth, not him.
The silver sheen of his hair left no doubt, bright against the mud and ash of Barad-dûr.
