New Challenge: Title Track
Tolkien's titles range from epic to lyrical to metaphorical. This month's challenge selected 125 of them as prompts for fanworks.
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Our Annual Amnesty Challenge: New Year's Resolution
Start 2026 off with creativity! If you missed a challenge or didn't get to finish or post a challenge fanwork, complete any 2025 challenge before 15 February to receive the stamp.
"The Fëanorian Zine" Available to Read and Download
We are pleased to be able to offer "The Fëanorian Zine" to read and download on the SWG for free.
Call for Artists for the 2026 Challenge Stamps
We are soliciting help from artists who want to help create the stamps we award to challenge participants.
New & Updated Fanworks
[Writing] A Hundred Miles Through the Desert by StarSpray
“Come on.” Maedhros grabbed his hand and pulled him along down the path, both of them quickening their pace now, until the trees opened up into a wide meadow filled with flowers, bright yellow celandine and dandelions and sweet-scented pale chamomile mingling with cornflowers and irises. On…
[Writing] Who Will Hear Me? by XirinOfArvada
A lonely elf finds a flute half buried beneath the sand and wonders if its owner will hear him when he calls.
[Writing] Loyal, Faithful by Himring
Late in the Second Age, one of the Faithful reflects critically on past developments. (Free verse.)
[Writing] East Away! by Flora-lass
Aldarion storms off towards Middle-earth. For the Title Track challenge.
[Writing] Don't You Ever Look Away by Elrond's Library
“They can’t just assume we’ll let them leave us behind.”
“But they are, and they will. Our fathers are the Heads of their Houses. Fëanáro is king. Defiance would be treason, beloved.”
“I am his firstborn.”
“You are his only daughter.”
“I have…
[Writing] Break Me by Elrond's Library
“You’re not going to break me,” Russo huffed, finally cracking open his eyes, which were bright with amusement. “They could not, what makes you think you could?”
For Scribbles and Drabbles 2025 SFW Slide 33
[Writing] Three Black Islands by Idrils Scribe
When Celebrimbor's attempts at forging the Rings of Power fail yet again, Annatar knows where to find the missing know-how.
For all the wrong reasons, Celebrimbor agrees to an expedition to the ruins of Angband to search Morgoth's own laboratory, deep in the icy Northern Wastes.
What…
Current Challenge
Title Track
Create a fanwork using our collection of 125 titles from Tolkien's books, chapters, essays, poems, and fragments as inspiration. Read more ...
Random Challenge
New in References
Tolkien, Lunatic Physicists, and Abnegation by Cynthia (Cindy) Gates
This presentation for Mereth Aderthad 2025 discusses the parallels between the concept of abnegation in the scientific work surrounding the atomic bomb and in The Silmarillion. The relinquishment of self-interest in favor of the interests of others, abnegation was identified by Tolkien as a powerful act of spirit and reason. The legendarium has many examples of the complexities of abnegation, which parallel similar discussions held by physicists during and after World War II.
Twilight, Child Of: Comparisons Between Tinúviel, Lómion, and Undómiel by JazTheBard
This presentation for Mereth Aderthad 2025 discusses the many similarities between Tolkien's three "twilight children," Tinúviel, Lómion, and Undómiel (Luthien, Maeglin, and Arwen) in terms of appearance, plot, and cultural background. Yet these three characters play very different roles in the text.
The Aromantic in Tolkien by daughterofshadows
Presented at Mereth Aderthad 2025, this paper makes the case thata, although the term "aromantic" had not yet been coined in Tolkien's day, many of his characters can be read as aromantic. The paper takes a closer look at Aredhel, Bilbo, and Boromir as three examples of characters who can be read as aromantic.
Featured Themed Collection
Beyond the Silmarillion
[Writing] here you will dwell, bound to your grief by Elrond's Library
Arwen grieves, and loves.
[Writing] Faramir's Verse by losselen
“Come, Faramir. Let us not stand in ceremony. I think words are due between you and I, and not only those between a King and his Steward.”
Faramir has speech with Gandalf and his King.
[Writing] In a Hole in the Ground... by StarSpray
“There’s a goblin hiding in the taters, Dad!” Pippin hefted the pan, which was much too big for him to carry, let alone wield.
Around the World and Web
March Challenge - Tolkien Short Fanworks
Tolkien Short Fanworks is running a challenge for the month of March to create a Back to Middle-earth Month themed challenge.
Tolkien Fashion Week 2026
This two-week-long Tumblr event is dedicated to honoring the world of fashion and textiles Tolkien wrote about in his books.
Celegorm and Curufin Week 2026
Celegorm and Curufin Week is a Tumblr week celebrating the relationship between Celegorm and Curufin Feanorion
Back to Middle-earth Month 2026
Back to Middle-earth Month is returning for it's 20th year with many prompts and archival efforts.
The Court of Ardor by AliceNWonder000137
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The Court of Ardor
This is the official formation of the Court. Ardana has a vision of Valinor and the Vanyar. Warning for a scene between Ardana and Morgoth that showcases his evil.
17) The Court of Ardor – Year of the Sun 156 Lairë (Summer)
Ardana
“The King of the Earth commands your presence,” Morfuin said flatly, now in his lesser form, skin as red as hot coals. He then stood still as a statue, awaiting the Astrologer’s reply. The demon’s complete lack of emotion was still unsettling even after all of these years.
Ardana’s voice caught in her throat at first, but then she coughed and looked up from reading a tome at her desk. “What…what is it?”
Morfuin pursed his lips, the nearest thing he showed to impatience. “The lord has a gift for you.”
Her heart skipped a beat and then quickened. “I…I…I am honored,” she said as she jumped up, nearly knocking her tome from the desk. She didn’t even look back as she rushed beside the demon. “Do you know what it is?
“I do not,” he said without even looking at her. They walked quickly, Ardana at a near jog to keep up with the demon. At Morthaur’s laboratory, Morfuin gestured into the room and then resumed his statue-like pose, neither blinking nor moving.
Ardana entered to see much of her inner circle gathered around Morgoth, her king, who was now at normal size. The three precious jewels blazed in his iron crown, giving him a godlike appearance. She noticed though that his skin was grayer, almost blue, giving him an almost sickly pallor. Tension and anger ran along the muscles of his face, something very different that the serene wisdom he had shown her in Valinor. Most of what he spoke about now was revenge and destruction, a far cry from the guidance and unity that he gave her before.
She saw that Morthaur was there along with many of the newer members, whom she knew of but had never met before. There was a pale woman with sharp features and with fiery red hair, wearing a gown with a pattern of fire that danced like true flame. This was Rilia, a sorceress of great power and charisma who wielded fire as easily as a balrog. There was a tall man with rippling muscles and golden hair that was meticulously styled. Ardana could tell immediately that he was full of himself. This was Valmorgȗl. Finally, another tall man with dark hair in an unflattering bowl cut, wearing deep blue robes. He stood with his head tilted up and his fingers on his chin, his expression haughty and impatient. This was Gorthaur, a priest of the dark arts. These elves would be her inner circle for what was to come.
Morthaur stepped towards her with a smile and began to speak. “My lady, I-” he started when he was cut off by Valmorgȗl.
“What my…esteemed colleague was about to say was that our lord has created a great surprise for you. One, we are tasked with travelling to the south to complete our mission and two, please my lady, take a look at this,” he said with a broad smile, gesturing to a metal table. Ardana glanced over to see a sour look come over Morthaur. Perhaps this could be used to her ultimate advantage.
Ardana walked over to see a deck of cards arranged on the table. One caught her eye, titled The Lady, which depicted an intricate painting of her on its face down to her gown which shimmered with starlight. A sense of wonder filled her heart and she smiled. “What is this? It’s magnificent.”
Valmorgȗl bowed and then gestured to Morgoth. “The Lord of the Earth should explain his gift.”
Morgoth spoke in a voice that reverberated throughout the room. “I have channeled my power into this deck of cards for you, Ardana. It carries the strength of my will and the authority of my command. Pick one up.”
Ardana picked up her card and found it to be light despite its size. She immediately felt a surge of energy in the card. Her breath caught in her throat at the feeling, and she turned the card in her hand. “What can it do, my king?”
Morgoth smiled and his eyes flashed red. “It will allow you to channel my might, much as the broach does for our son. When in need, it will grant you untold energy to crush our enemies. I long to see the villainous vermin who oppose us ground under our heel. Only our will shall prevail.”
Gorthaur bowed his head. “It shall be done, my lord.”
Morgoth brushed Gorthaur’s face with his hand and nodded. “And furthermore, it grants the users the ability to communicate with one another. Here,” he said, handing her the card for The Illusionist. “Speak to Fëatur.”
Ardana took the card and felt a warmth spread over it. “Fëatur? Are you there?”
A voice could be heard emanating from the card. “Yes, my lady.”
Ardana smiled broadly. “Astounding! Much like the Palantiri.”
Morgoth nodded. “We can only speak through the cards now, but I hope to infuse greater powers later.”
“I was just testing the lord’s gift, Fëatur,” Ardana said into the card. “You may resume what you were doing.”
“Yes, my lady,” the Illusionist said and then the card grew cold.
Ardana scanned the other cards in the deck. Valmorgȗl, the Magician. Morthaur, the Lord. Gorthaur, the High Priest. Rilia, the Sorceress. Sȗlherok, the Messenger. Morfuin, the Lord Demon. She picked up one that showed a man hanging upside down, titled The Fool. “I take it this is for the male Fëatur, who foolishly gave up his life and the great power promised by our king?”
“Indeed,” said Morgoth. “Indeed, he was a fool to reject my gifts. The world could have been his to enjoy along with us. But now, he is no more, rotting in the Halls of Mandos like a worm. More cards will be added as we grow and assume our rightful place as rulers of the world.”
Ardana bowed low. “A magnificent gift, my king. I am honored.” The king seemed his old self, guiding them to a better future of power and independence. Maybe a corner had been turned. Maybe they could go back to the way it was.
Morgoth grinned, a familiar leering grin to her now. He looked to the others. “You are all dismissed. I require your presence no longer. Ardana will remain.”
The other elves bowed and retreated from the room. Ardana’s heart caught in her throat and a cold feeling spread over her. Morgoth waved his hand and, in an instant, they were in her bedchamber. “I require a proper show of gratitude,” he said in a voice full of expectation.
Ardana gulped hard, feeling both desire and terror. It felt as if every encounter had aged her, leaving her spread thin like too little butter on too much bread. She pulled the straps of her gown from her shoulders and let it fall to the ground. She suddenly felt exposed and afraid. Her king was not as before, where he was wise and powerful. He seemed consumed by anger and revenge now and she was the recipient of his feelings. She wanted to love him as before, but all she could think about was the journey south. He grasped her body, his hands cold and rough and she let her mind wander to the stars.
Flashes of memory brought her back to Ilmarin, the domed halls of Manwë and Varda atop the highest peak of the world, Taniquetil. She looked out from behind a great white pillar, seeing stars and constellations, woven in such intricate patterns, the designs of Varda, who crafted the stars with her power and wisdom. Ardana laughed with glee, seeing the shimmering lights of her beloved stars, unmarred by any other celestial object. She heard a melodious tone and turned to see a gathering. Golden haired elves in white robes moved to the center of a vast courtyard, full of trees and flowers.
“The Vanyar,” she said and rushed towards them. She saw one Vanya, taller than the rest with a crown of gold and jewels. “Ingwë? It must be.” Her mouth fell open. How was she back in the beloved halls? “The High Festival? This was before…” she said and her voice trailed off.
A woman who seemed more spirit than physical form led the Vanyar to one tree that seemed to stretch to the heavens. Ardana’s nostrils were filled with the scent of evergreens and flowers. The woman seemed to float over the grass and then bowed before another woman who seemed to be starlight made flesh. “Ilmarë…and and Varda,” she whispered, and shame filled her heart. She rushed forward, trying to move through the crowd of elves, but she became lost. A song rose from the gathered throng, and it seemed as if the entire courtyard had become music. The elves lifted their faces, and their voices joined the music. The melodies were beautiful and Ardana wept. She fell to her knees and pounded her fists on the soft grass. “No! Please Varda, let me stay. Let me return to your teaching.” The music became like the twinkling of stars, heavenly and beyond the comprehension of those below. Time stood still.
Ardana buried her face in the ground, crying out. She had never heard anything so beautiful and never would again. If only she could go back. What led her to the horror that was now her life? Slowly, the music faded away and she looked up to see the Vanyar glow and vanish into light. Ilmarë followed, leaving only Varda. Ardana tried to look into the Vala’s face, but Varda’s eyes blazed like stars. “I can’t. I can’t. Please Varda.” She reached out, but the Vala vanished in a flash like an exploding sun. Then, all was cold and dark.
Ardana’s mind came back to her as her king arose from the bed. Without a glance back, he vanished, shifting himself into another room. Her body cold, she gagged for a moment and then wiped a tear from her cheek. She leapt up and put on her gown, wanting to hide and cover herself. She looked into her mirror and saw that the white streak in her hair had grown, and the hair was coarse and crinkly. She knew that another child was forming, but like all elves, she could will it gone and she did so. She was already regretting the idea of sacrificing Moran. She had lost her daughter too and could not bear to lose another.
She looked out a window from her room and gazed at the Ard Galen south of Morgoth’s fortress. She imagined a wild, untamed land that they could call their own. She decided to name it Ardor. There, she would plan and carry out the destruction of the Sun and Moon and return Varda’s dream of a sky that contained only the beloved starts. And when she left Angband, she vowed never to return.
Chapter End Notes
I want to showcase Ardana's personality and motivations and how deluded she is under Morgoth.
