Fanworks Tagged with Elwing

“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 done everything to be the son he wished me to be.”
“And yet, you are not.”

Findekánë and Maitindë do not go to Beleriand with their fathers. This changes very little, and yet so much.
For Scribbles and Drabbles 2025 SFW Slide 213 Two Queens

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The falcon joined her on the second day of watching. And stayed with her, watching her … Galadriel would say surreptitiously, if birds could do more than blankly stare. It was unnerving. The falcon preened its dark feathers occasionally, but otherwise watched the disembarking Elves with the same keen gaze as Galadriel.
Under the moonlight of the third night the falcon shivered, stretched, and shifted to become one who had been thought lost.
 

Elwing reunites with Galadriel before the War of Wrath.

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Would it never end? Would there always be one more mother standing on the shore, looking out to sea, full of a grief made more terrible by hope?
Elwing and Nerdanel in Valinor in the Fourth Age; a story about children coming home.

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Old age creeps upon Tuor, insistent and unsettling, and as sea-longing grows in his heart, Annael guides him on his way.

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On a cold winter day in the Havens of Sirion, Elwing meets two sparrows.

English translation of my fic "En mä ole, lapseni, lintu tästä maasta"

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Eräänä kylmänä talviaamuna Sirionin satamissa Elwing kohtaa kaksi varpusta

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Two bird-related drabbles featuring Elwing and Eärendil for December 2025 Instadrabbling

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In the wide, water-bound delta lands of the Sirion grow reeds taller than any man. Following the estuary to its end one finds the waterways open onto great white-sanded beaches, stretching as far South as half-elven eyes can behold. Elwing takes Elrond and Elros downriver to the beach for the day and together they discover small everyday wonders.

Written for Scribbles and Drabbles 2025 Prompt #115: A Beach Day by Myrtaceaae. Their sweet artwork can be found here. Seriously, go check it out, Myrtaceaae makes such gorgeous pieces.

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His life in Valinor.

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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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Pengolodh tries to write about the kinslaying at Sirion. He fails.

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Elwing flies across the ocean but she is tired and doesn't know how much farther she can go

For November 2025 instadrabbling

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Vingilot was a magnet for bugs, and Eärendil feared coming back to land because of it. 

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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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"Whatever the songs say, I am still only myself, and I miss my grandfather.”

Five times Eärendil asks for news of Turgon, and one time he does not have to.

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"Therefore there was built for [Elwing] a white tower northward upon the borders of the Sundering Seas..." - The Silmarillion, 'Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath'

Made for 2025's Tolkien Summer Reverse Bang! 

The accompanying fic is here: Sad songs for us to bear by astrisq

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“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.

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The third kinslaying and its aftermath, from the perspective of Maedhros and Elwing: a shape poem.

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Two years ago, in the Summer, Maglor and his brother took in twin elflings on what was the worst day of the children’s lives. Seventy-six years before that, the solstice had heralded their own living nightmare. As the days grow longer and warmer the four of them find ways to help each other reckon with the ghosts of the past.

Written for the Gates of Summer Challenge prompts: “… cast up exhausted on the shoals of August”, Nirnaeth Arnoediad and Loendë (midsummer).

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Adaptation of the lyrics of a German song to the Legendarium: Zogen einst fünf wilde Schwäne. (With English translation).

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As a very young child, Gil-galad arrived on Círdan's doorstep with no memories and nothing but a brief letter containing two things: a request to foster him, and a name, Ereinion. Silver-haired scion of kings, he always suspected his lineage was more vexed than anyone, Noldor or Sindar alike, was comfortable admitting, especially in those fragile last days before the War of Wrath.

Parents as well as kings must make difficult decisions. After the Third Kinslaying, Gil-galad learns this the hard way.

Title is a reference to Elizabeth I's Speech to the Troops at Tilbury.

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With the cry of a stolen child, Maglor sees the future in all of its possibilities and makes a choice regarding Elrond and Elros.

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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. 

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A collection of drabbles about women in Tolkien's Legendarium. 

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She sits alone in her room and pulls the silmaril out. Stares at it in the dark until the light makes her cry. Weighs the blood of her kin staining the Fëanorians hands against the yet unspilled blood of the people she’s been told are her responsibility. Holds the question she’s never been able to answer in her hands and makes herself think — what makes a monster? She knows what her advisors say. She knows what her people whisper. She knows their blood will run red regardless of which set of monsters end up finally coming for them.

or: Elwing is sixteen when she finally comprehends the brutality of the war ravaging Beleriand, when she realizes what it means to be told the people of Sirion are hers to protect. She is sixteen and helplessly in love and her advisor tells her that she is safe in Sirion and she cannot believe him. She comes up with a plan to fix it.

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