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Reborn in Valinor, Glorfindel prepares for a momentous decision with the support of an old friend.
(For hennethgalad.)
Elrond asks about his mother, in 100-word drabbles.
Do wars start with the first fired arrow and end with the last? Or maybe they start already with the realization that they need to be fought? And never truly end, as long as the memory of them haunts those who took part? Arafinwë’s story of the War of Wrath. Previously posted on other sites.
Upon his return from Númenor, Eönwë has memories to face, conversations to have, and old companions to meet.
After Oromë sends a Hunting Party to investigate the reports of proliferation of fell beasts far in South Aman, the entire errand goes horrifically wrong. Celegorm was prepared to die a grisly death, yet he dares to beg the Great Void Spider to spare his life, which to his surprise, the request is heeded. Then comes the most unlikely partnership and friendship in all of Arda, and its unexpected consequences.
The tide played around the horizon, only beginning to consider its daily sweep up the beach to the toes of Alqualondë. Eärwen waved to the far-off breakers and slid down to the wet sand, then turned and lifted Anaïre down. Anaïre pecked her on the cheek in thanks, and they started up the beach to the strand and the woman lying there sobbing for breath.
She did look young, close-up. That is, she looked like an Elf who had just reached full maturity, except where she did not. Around the eyes she bore little crinkles like the seafarers did, on her heaving belly the lightning-marks of pregnancy, and two fascinating rivers of silver ran into the light-gulping blackness of her hair from the temples. And, of course, there were the feathers
Arafin seeks Elulindo's aid for a quest which will take them far to the south to waters filled with wonders he has never before seen.
Illustration to The House of Fëanor by Deborah Judge, inspired by The Silmarillion.
That it was returned, he did not question. He could look back now and see everything arranged in its full image, he could trace the careful dance they both wound through this past year; every word, every silence, every touch ringing through with that steady truth. How had he been so blind?
Springtime has come to Estolad. Finrod is struck with a realization he has been avoiding and faces the decisions that lie in its wake.
“Let us not perish here in the long darkness,” Balan said softly, crossing back to take one of the waiting wreaths and set it upon his own brow, “these creatures you chose to form. Remember us, here in our frailty.”
It is Yuletide. The Atani and Finrod celebrate throughout the night as they stay awake to greet the dawn after the Longest Night. Balan's people settle into Estolad, Atani traditions abound, and Finrod faces some memories.
Story/fiction writing prompts for the 30-Day Character Challenge.
Nerdanel & Eärwen have tea, talk, and find peace in each other's company.
Maedhros and Maglor have stolen the Silmarils and disappeared. Beleriand is sinking. Finarfin, Gil-Galad, and all the people moving east pay a visit to Amon Ereb, assuming that the Sons of Fëanor returned there.
Instead, they find Elrond and Elros.
Finrod emerges from the Halls of Mandos.
Nerdanel and Earwen disagree about free-roaming pets.
Finarfin just thought the dragon egg looked neat, so he brought it home.
Then it hatched.
A Day on the Water
The home of my insta-drabbling pieces!
(and the odd drabble of undetermined origin)
Over a cup of wine, Finarfin and Ingwion discuss family, the weather, and their status as figurehead war leaders, then start a little rebellion of their own.
Gil-galad found that battles in Valinor were not that different from battles anywhere else, even if they used words instead of swords. It was still a fight against despair and loss, with reminders of the cost of failure lurking behind every corner.
Elrond was no longer by his side to help, but Finarfin and Ingwë were. If there had to be a battle of words to get the rest of their family from the Halls - well, Gil-galad would not shy from planning that battle.
Earendil comes home to Elwing's Tower in Aewellond (the Bird-haven) to rest from his labors, and finds her just beginning hers. She's been...nesting in his absence.
He hadn't counted on Elwing's bird-skinchanging affecting her like this...
Controversy rages at the Games as the House of Fëanor is accused of using performance enhancing drugs.
In Fifth Age Tirion, Caranthir has been reembodied into a changed world: his uncle has unkinged himself and turned Tirion into a republic, Elves live in suburbs and seek psychotherapy, and the Noldor born after his exile have invented all kinds of wondrous things. One day, Caranthir receives a letter that he is being entrusted to mentor his newly reembodied cousin Orodreth. They must not only resolve their old enmity but achieve a tenuous friendship--maybe even more?--as both seek the peace and acceptance they never found in their prior lives. Written for TRSB 2019, based on the artwork by NelyafinweFeanorion.
In Treelight, he and Artanis had walked the beaches of Elendë, the white sand soft beneath bare toes as she splashed in the shallows and demanded he name every sea star. Upon the ragged new shores of this eastern land, they wore stout boots, for they were all torn rock and silt, and the waters colder than the Bay of Eldamar. And Artanis was Galadriel now, and if her name was softer, it was all of her that was.
A boy loses his father then spends a lifetime trying to find him. When Finrod walked out of Nargothrond what exactly did he leave behind?