Fanworks Tagged with Maedhros

“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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“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
 

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Rescued from a brutal Angband hunt, an ex-thrall with a strange and powerful artifact embedded in his spine is brought to Himring, for it is one of the only places in Beleriand which welcomes such folk. Though he has no memories of his life before, Anniavas slowly becomes accustomed to his new life and finds he has a queer connection with Maedhros, Himring's lord. As their intimacy grows, however, so do the dangers surrounding them, both without and within. What secrets are hidden inside the depths of Anniavas's lost memories--and how will those with whom he is forging and deepening bonds react, when those secrets are at last revealed?

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Spurred on by the tribulations of endless rain and a leaky tent, Maglor and Maedhros find a house for Elrond, Elros and themselves to live in. However, moving is complicated by the emergence of memories of home, and a scare from Elros.

Written for the SWG's New Year's Resolution Amnesty and March Challenge: Birthday Bash for the prompt word 'displaced' and the poem:

Yesterday I lost a country.
I was in a hurry,
and didn't notice when it fell from me
like a broken branch from a forgetful tree.
I Was in a Hurry by Dunya Mikhail, translated by Elizabeth Winslow

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Idril begins her courtship of Tuor with food.

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A collection of works exploring Elrond and Elros growing up in the care of Maglor and Maedhros in Ossiriand. 

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Elros recalls the journey from Sirion to Ossiriand and the early days with Maedhros and Maglor. He and Elrond struggle to cope, yet there are new discoveries and small joys still to be found.

Written for the SWG's Great Beleriand Bakeoff Challenge: Olive Bread (19th Dec) Prompt.

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How high a price, not only for words but for blood on holy shores? For smoke on the horizon? For trust and love unyielding, tossed aside in the hours of one dark night? And what, then, the price for unearned forgiveness? For offering the other cheek, for offering to slay kin all over, again, again, again in his name?

“Would you have come with me, if I had asked?” The truth is, Fingon is not sure of the answer. The truth is, he had asked himself, nights on end, what the answer to that question would be. Had asked himself where they had gone so wrong, that he no longer knew.

“Would you have asked, if you were sure of the answer?”

Fingon rescues Maedhros. He and Finrod grapple with the aftermath.

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Maedhros watches him for long moments, his eyes cold in the dim light of morning. “If I wanted to talk to you, I would ask, not use my brother to trick you.”

The implication lands like a blow, precise and devastating. Finrod takes another step closer, then stops himself, fists clenching at his sides. Maedhros has ever been like this, to him—every single word eliciting a reaction; making him fly, bringing him low, tearing him open. What a terrible thing to still find it true, so many years and betrayals later.

Once, Fingon and Maedhros had been Finrod's lovers, the past participle of it carrying the sentence. As it turns out, not everything agrees to be relegated so neatly.

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Maedhros stands at the battlements of Himring and faces Thangorodrim.

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Fingon dances in the new year. Maedhros watches, and yearns.

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The Fëanorian Zine features art and fiction centered on the House of Fëanor from thirty creators. The Fëanorian Zine is being hosted by the SWG, and you can read the zine and download a copy for free here!


The contributors who have participated are as follows;
Isilwhore, Balrogballs, Firefly, Whovianofmidgard, Nighttimepatrons, Astral, Isilwhore, Katarrinskey, Rainfeather, Dragonbornsandwaffles/beatles4ever65, Transsexualhamlet, Sage, Iwi, Starillion, Thelien, Angamaite, Truc, Mag-lore, Mauvearts, rputthebottledown, StarsOfArda, JoeTamy, Laerthel, Curufiin, Swordhound, Elrond's Library, Peasant-Player, Tomefaired/Solmarillion/Soleil, Starshadeemily, Sesamenom.

Their handles are all stated in the Zine's index page, please welcome them and enjoy all of the hard work they have done for the project!

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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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Oh it was so good. Just that perfect puffy pastry with crunchy almonds on top. Just enough sweetness to satisfy Tyelkormo’s sweet tooth, without being so overwhelming that it’d disgust him in two bites. No really, this croissant was just utter perfection!

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When Maedhros returns from Mandos, re-connecting does not prove easy. Nerdanel is determined to care for her son and finds that she must confront grief along the way.

In my dreams my sons wander at length, lost in pathless woods, ancient, sunless and foreboding. In the waking world, Maedhros breathes and moves before me, but is rarely truly there. I see the dream-wraith Maedhros superimposed over my living son, and am sure he never found a path out of that desolate place. The whispers in my dreams insist he never will.

Written for Scribbles and Drabbles 2025 Prompt #53: Night Watch by Zhie, to whom credit belongs for the artwork below (which can also found here).

Many thanks to Elronds_Library and timelessutterances for beta reading, and Double_Sharp for the conversations on equatorial climate.

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Amid the devastation of Nírnaeth Arnoediad Fingon reaches out to Maedhros with one last command: 'you must not follow me', and Maedhros remembers the last sweet hours they spent together before the battle.

"Promise me something, beloved.”
This, the only time he allows fear to break through before the battle, catches my attention. I extend my neck to see creases of care in the corners of his mouth. “Mm? What is it?”
“Promise me you will find your place in the world to come, beyond tomorrow,” he lowers his voice to a whisper, “whether I am by your side or not.”

Written for Scribbles & Drabbles 2025 Art Prompt #51: And his banners they trod into the mire of his blood by Fiamma Galathon. You can find the artwork here.

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After Maedhros and Maglor stole the two silmarils and escaped Ëonwë's camp, Elrond and Elros had followed the two in secret. And when the two casted the gems in their respective resting places, the four of them woke up to a dark Arda, along with the cursed beloved gems.

Nothing was right in this Arda.

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Hastaina-marred, she was, they both were but with passage of time the pain should subside, shouldn't it?

In an AU where Huan fought Carcharoth much earlier and wasn't there to protect Beren and Luthien from Celegorm. It was the aftermath of it.

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“What if,” said Manwë, regarding Maedhros with star-bright eyes, blue as sapphires and piercing as blades, “you were sent from these Halls for a purpose, son of Fëanáro?”
“I suppose, my lord,” Maedhros said slowly, “that would depend upon the purpose.”

Maedhros is sent back to Middle-earth, in the company of the Maia Olórin. 

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His life in Valinor.

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Maedhros has been captured by Morgoth's forces after the Dagor-nuin-Giliath. Left to rot on his own in a dark cell who knows where, he almost starts believing this will be the end to his story. He was wrong. They were coming for him, as well.

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Bad dreams?” I ask, and Elrond nods. When I brush against his mind it laps like the tide against some desolate shore, and he stands alone in the washed out landscape. Young eyes rove over a heartless sea where the horizon is empty of all but tossing waves. White cliffs are at his back, reeds peek over sandy dunes southward along the shore, and Elrond’s heart fills with the hollow echo: no longer my home, no longer my home.

There is a new star in the sky and and old fears surface. Maedhros supports through Elrond and Elros through their ensuing emotional turmoil as he battles his own.

Written for the SWG October Challenge 2025: The Only Thing to Fear using the prompt: fear of being alone.

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Finarfin wishes for a simple end

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After a breakup, Maglor pays a visit to Himring. It would be more relaxing if his brother's boyfriend wasn't visiting too.

A Fingon/Maglor romcom.

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Maedhros, unlike most, watches closely—has not known how to do anything but, ever since Fingon brought him back. Does more than that, too, and few Elves care to guard their mind so closely that someone who wishes to would be hindered from catching surface thoughts.

Back in Aman, there was no need; it was a matter of courtesy not to go rummaging around in other people’s heads, and for all of Tirion’s political scheming, not even his father would have ever considered breaching such trust.

This is not Aman, and Maedhros is not his father. And Fingolfin’s mind, for one, is very loud.

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Fingolfin struggles beneath the weight of the crown. Maedhros does what he must to help.

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