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.

“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 the other side of it was a larger party than Maglor had ever seen in Lórien—five figures sitting in the grass. Huan barked again, and they all looked up. “It seems everyone has come to fetch us home,” Maedhros said, laughing, as all their brothers scrambled to their feet.
After years in Lórien, Maglor and Maedhros are ready to return to their family and to make something new with their lives--but to move forward, all of Fëanor's sons must decide how, or if, they can ever reconcile with their father.

They passed out of Lhûn and the wider coastline of Middle-earth opened up before his eyes. He had wandered those shores for centuries, and even now he felt the pull of that same wanderlust, and knew he would miss them for the rest of his life. Their wildness, the untamed waves, the rocky shores and the cliffs and the sandy beaches. The gulls, and the dunes, and the tide pools with their ever-changing denizens. Someone began to sing a song of farewell, and other voices took it up. He did not join them.
Maglor keeps a promise, and comes to Valinor, only to find the ghosts he thought he'd left behind are alive and waiting for him.

A collection of flashfic, drabbles, and snippets.

When the Noldor return to Middle-earth to make war on Morgoth, only rumours reach Menegroth of their reasons for coming, but Doriath's minstrel experiences their loss and longing through his connection to Music and the gift of his Queen. Years later, he is sent to the Feast of Reuniting and meets the Elf whose grief he felt. A story about the Eldar returning home, their connection to the land and to each other, and their relationship to Music and fate, love and free will.

“Forgive me,” Finrod muses, the ends of his lips twitching up in a teasing smile as he ties a delicately embroidered burgundy sash around Maglor’s waist, “I had forgotten that you only hang out with me for the fashion advice. No other reason.”
Years of the Trees Gen Slice of LIfe fic

When Finrod rides into the valley of Imladris just after sunrise, half-shrouded in a frosty late-autumn mist, Maglor is certain he's gone mad at last.