New Challenge: Allusive
Literature and art constantly refer back to each other using allusions, and this month's prompts are inspired by allusions to literature, myth, art, and history.


Banner made for the series by Lingwiloke (Fandom Stocking 2016)
The main story arc of this series goes from just after the rescue from Thangorodrim to Maedhros's death. However, the narrative is not strictly chronological - there are flashbacks, flashforwards and recounted memories. These span from Maedhros's childhood in Tirion to his release from Mandos just before the end of Arda. The individual stories are told from different points of view: Maedhros himself, Fingon, Maglor and Elrond. Although the upshot of the series is that it is pretty tough being doomed all the time, some bits are a lot more gloomy than others. All the dialogue was even wittier before being clumsily translated from Quenya. Considering the subject matter, very little blood and gore (I think). The ratings and warnings for individual sections differ greatly from the overall rating: see the individual stories.
ETA: Since I wrote this description of the series, it has snowballed in all directions. I feel that the description ought to be revised, but it is difficult to know exactly how to tweak it. You may wish to compare the more recent description of the series (with notes) on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/series/36091
Other links that might be helpful are these: a fragmentary timeline (https://hhimring.dreamwidth.org/61360.html), and a listing of original characters: http://hhimring.dreamwidth.org/69187.html (both on my Dreamwidth journal)
Illustrations to the series by Alasse now separately posted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20456276/chapters/48536480

Who were Ulfang's people, and why did they betray the Elves?

This is a series of drabbles and short fics, each one complete in itself, that were written during my Maedhros-muse's time in Theatrical Muse on LJ, between 2004 and 2005.

Curufin escapes to the realms of fantasy to escape the pressures of his family and discovers the thrill of first love.

Non-angsty ficlets set in Valinor (and one or two in Middle Earth), many featuring Feanor.

He should have seen it coming, Nolofinwe thought while Maitimo’s lips descended on his, hot and demanding. His nephew had stolen away to talk with him almost every time he visited Findekáno and it hadn’t escaped Nolofinwe how he looked at him – and he couldn’t deny that Maitimo was proving a hard trial for his self-control.
After Maitimo recognises Nolofinwe at a place for people of special tastes, they share a common secret. But is this a chance to have this kind of relationship with someone they care about or should they forget about it because of their close kinship?

A small story about Fingon and Maedhros in the woods of Beleriand.

After the third kinslaying, Maglor realizes he has new priorities.

Every summer, Macalaurë’s entire family takes a trip to the woods and sets up camp for a few days, enjoying the nice weather and each other’s companies.

Morgoth hangs Maedhros on Thangorodrim.

Maitimo suffers an accident and can't quite understand if it's him or his head that it's making him think funny. In other words, Maitimo slowly realizing.

Fingon and Maedhros find a dead orc in the forest - and a baby.
A mother decides to do whatever it takes to keep her child save.
-----
My take on the parentage of Gil-galad.

Maitimo’s heart thudded in his chest with the finality of a falling hammer. We. Had the Valar pronounced this sentence upon all of them, or did Fëanáro assume the unwavering loyalty of his family in accepting his Doom as their own?
The unrest of the Noldor, and the aftermath of the confrontation between Feanor and Fingolfin, told from Maedhros' perspective.

At the midsummer festival, is it necessary that one be shirtless?

In dark Ossiriand, in one of the undocumented early minor confrontations during the War of Wrath, Maedhros, Maglor and Elrond confront an unexpected enemy. The story is seen from the point of view of Fëanor's unhoused spirit.
This is an excerpt from my longer story Quenta Narquelion that I have put here so I can use it for a SWG discord fanfic book club event.

Noldorin finishing school is boring, but at least Findekáno has Nelyafinwë as his instructor. Inspired by the soap opera prompts: Stock Characters: The Virgin; Plot Tropes: Amnesia; Typical Setting: School/University; Special Episode: Hallowe'en

A modern AU centering around the house of finwë: who they are how they grow, and in the end, how they love. Mostly Russingon centric, but definitely involving other characters pretty liberally, especially the other feanorians.

The Grinding Ice. Findekáno makes a discovery and wants to share it.

Les enfants elfes sont plus précoces que les enfants humains, nous dit Tolkien. Mais certains enfants elfes le sont plus encore.

Elrond is a few weeks away from sailing to Valinor, and he's had a tough time of it lately.
Luckily, his dads are willing to put aside their differences to help him.

An alternate version of my fic "Give the Children Closure"
Maedhros is unsurprised by Elrond coming to let him out of the Halls, though he knows he won't actually be leaving. This is a kinder hallucination than most.

Elrond is pretty sure that visiting the Halls to pick up his foster father shouldn't be this difficult.
Maedhros is pretty sure he's about to be thrown into the Void, and he's okay with that.

Companion piece to Erinyator. Elrond, son and father.
But if he did not speak, then who would remember? If he did not tell them, his children would not know how much HE owed to Maglor, Maedhros. And he could not have his children think so badly of them.
So he nestled Elrohir’s head against his shoulder and began. ‘Once, long long ago, there were two small boys, twins…’
‘Like Elladan and me.’

Maedhros had not intended any of this.
The thought came to him as he watched the sleeping children snuggled under their blankets with the red light of the hearth fire against the softness of their cheeks, their dark heads just over the top of the blankets.
The smaller one snuffled and rubbed his nose in his sleep and Maedhros automatically smoothed his hand over the warm dark head and hummed the lullaby he had hummed over countless ages to other small boys. All dead now but one.
And this was not life.
No. He had not intended this.
His stump itched and he scratched it carelessly; it did that when he remembered.

It is Elros and Elrond's tenth birthday, and Middle-earth receives an unexpected gift.