Fanworks Tagged with Dior

Dior prepares for his final standoff with the Sons of Fëanor.

Scribbles and Drabbles SFW Art 54 - Last Stand by PeasantPlayer

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The elves of Beleriand lose the first battle against Morgoth. The Noldor find the free lands they'd been looking for. Lúthien is on the warpath.
And the First Age still is as bloody as it is in canon.
(Please read the author's notes, there will reading-instructions, as this is my first attempt at a deconstructed fic)

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For this month’s ‘The Only Thing To Fear’-challenge, I tried something a little different- which was to write short ficlets for as many prompts as possible. (Admittedly, I wanted them to be drabbles at first, but I just couldn’t manage).

Some of these turned more into PTSD-stories than phobias, but I think it still fits the challenge.

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"Dior shall he be called, and you shall be a comfort to each other: that though he be fatherless and motherless, and you childless, you shall not be bereft of kin."

On the lives and deaths of two kings of Doriath: Elwë of Cuiviénen, wisest and noblest of Elves, who ruled in peace ere ever the Sun rose; and Dior Eluchíl, at whose feet the realm crumbled.

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A story about stew and how many people cook the same dish across the years. Spanning all the way from the Adanel and her family to the wedding of Aragorn and Arwen.
Across millennia, people come together to share food and good company.

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...everyone here seemed to think Daeron should return to them equally unchanged, the same merry minstrel he had been long ago before the Girdle had been breached. He was yet a minstrel, and he was often merry, but he had seen and done so much that so many here could never even imagine. He had come very close to death more than once, and yet survived. He did not care what others might think of him, really—except for a select few—but it would be tiresome to be always catching them off guard, and his love for one of the sons of Fëanor would catch many very much off guard, he knew.

Daeron settles back in among his own people, travels to Tirion--and meets Fëanor.

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As the Sons of Fëanor set their feet on the path to the sack of Doriath, Caranthir reflects on the characters of himself and his brothers and contemplates where the responsibility lies for their predicament.

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In which Celegorm tries to do some reconnaissance on Doriath, finds some children in the woods, does his good deed for the century, and promptly gets taken prisoner for it.

Dior's bitter he can't just murder Celegorm. After all, he's not one of the eldar, it doesn't count as kinslaying if he does it.

Nimloth's impressed no one is dead yet and plans on keeping it that way for as long as possible.

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“Dior, son of Luthien,” Námo intones, “you do not belong in these halls. I will show you the way to where your path is meant to lead.”

Celegorm looks to Dior and tilts his head in curiosity at the defiant look being directed at Námo. “No,” Dior says, voice hard. “I feel no call to follow the path of men. I will stay in the halls with my kin.”

“I was not presenting it as a choice,” Námo says severely and Celegorm frowns. Sees Curufin across the room shaking his head and gesturing for Celegorm to join him. He thinks to but then looks at Dior again and gets distracted by the look on his face.

An animal backed into a corner, his mind supplies, glancing down at the way Dior’s fingers are beginning to press into Celegorm’s fëa  from how hard he is gripping Celegorm’s wrist.

Dior bares his teeth. “I was not either."

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Short fanworks for the following prompts:
    •    hurt, delusions, tandem, fly
    •    The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea.
    •    Oh, this spacious sky/Is not poetry enough for our swelling lungs
    •    Smells like teen spirit generator: annoying siblings
    •    From a random page of On Fairy-Stories: beauties, terrors, sun, power
    •    Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy.

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Three vignettes, three times Luthien thinks about Treelight and Silmarils.

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Completed. 

"At least we have learned that the sons of Fëanor can die too." Nine POVs, one matter - a story about the kinslaying in Doriath.

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Neldoreth was both like and unlike the forests of Dior’s childhood and youth.

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Dior did not see the arrow until it pierced his own flesh, a hard thrust of a point entering his back and blossoming out of his heart. The pain of the wound, and the feeling of his body in uncertain panic around it, was almost secondary to his curiosity.

Now what?

Dior felt strangely detached, as if he had stepped out of his body. He watched himself fall over the body of the Golodh he’d slain. Dior had worn no helm nor armor that day – and he saw his hair fan out to cover them both. They died together in the dark cloak of it.

Dior’s eyes closed, and all was dark.

~

And then Dior opened his eyes.

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The rider loosed the arrow before Dior could call a warning, and so he did what he needed to without a second thought – he leapt from the bush where he’d been hiding, and yelled to startle the deer into motion.

The doe ran; the herd ran; the arrow sank into the ground behind Dior with a deep wet thwock.

And then the rider came up to him, and Dior saw that this rider too was naked.

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Nimloth drags her feet about a certain decision; Melian has no time for that.

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Nimloth and Dior meet, and he is naked.

Alternatively,

Melian travels south to visit her daughter, and meets a familiar looking bird.

Written for the Tengwar prompt, Quessë (feather).

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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).

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Celegorm stalks through the halls of Menegroth.

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Idril and Meleth (my OC) welcome Finduilas, Niënor, and other refugees into Havens after the Fall of Doriath, hoping they can start anew there. Finduilas's daughter is distraught about the situation. Also, how did Finduilas and Niënor make it to the Havens after the Fall of Doriath?

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In his brother's final moments, Curufin must play an unexpected role.

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Celegorm and Dior speak.  A sequel to Broken Silver.  Canon divergence AU.

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Rather than killing him, Dior curses Celegorm with his dying breath. Someone that Celegorm once helped helps him a little in turn.

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For a "trick or treat" 3-setence story prompt on tumblr.  Thank you to shrikeseams for the request.

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“Oh,” Elwing said faintly. She felt the need to sit down, but locked her knees against it. “Then—have they been released from Mandos, my lord? I had not heard that you came in person to deliver such news.”

“They have not, not yet,” said Námo, and to Elwing’s surprise his mouth softened into a small smile, there and gone again in the blink of an eye. “Your brothers are still very young; Mandos is not a place for children to grow. They are ready to return to the world, but unlike most others who pass through my halls they cannot make the journey across Valinor alone. Come to the gates of my halls with all swiftness, and you will find your brothers there.” He inclined his head, and was gone.

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