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.

Argon, my sweet, foolish, impetuous youngest brother, ran ahead. I found him, you know, before he died.
Fingon remembers the first rising of the Moon and Sun, mourns his youngest brother and resolves that his cousin will not share Argon's fate.

How long ago had he realized his sister was who he belonged to? In their childhood, when the entire world seemed to be just their parents, and the two of them? Or maybe when they first spent time apart, her absence breaking his heart like nothing else? But most likely it had been during those latter years of youth, when Maedhros had first told him that she was in fact a maiden, giving him the courage, nay, the knowledge to be a man. Were they not linked together from then on, as a man and a woman, even more intertwined than husband and wife? What a pleasure it had been, to first kiss her.
t4t maemag with transfem maedhros!

It is an unfortunate fact that Findekáno has a reputation for making girls think he is courting them. Maitimo, as his friend, knows that this is simply a miscommunication, a disconnect between Findekáno's easy affection and the norms of Tirion. Knowing all this does not help him at all.

The mood in Maitimo's house has been dark these last few years, and his father's eyes have been following him.
Inspired by the fairytale Donkeyskin

Maglor falls in love. Maedhros lets him.

Frustrated by Maedhros' failure to answer entreaties to join in an assault upon Angband, Fingolfin comes to Himring himself. Negotiations start poorly, but Maglor is quick to propose a solution: a riding trip through the blooming plains of Ard-galen.

After his exile to Formenos, Feanor locks himself in the vault with the Silmarils. Makalaure goes to him.

By the time the Silmarils find their long homes, their tale has passed from the high and beautiful to darkness and ruin. But the story does not end there, for even ruined things crave the light. The bearers of the gems turn their faces from the darkness and embark upon the long road to redemption.

Well, Fëanor frightened him. Fëanor frightened them all, still, in one way or another.
Fëanor's sons receive letters from him, and try to decide what to do.

Maedhros and Fingon, ie Russo and Finnu from Prayers to Broken Stone, 19 years old and up to no-good at all. If you want to know why they’re dressed up like a Mecca pilgrim and a Roman cardinal, check out the snippet in the notes!

Searching for documents related to her father's life, Aragorn's daughter instead finds a jumble of conflicting documents about the nature of Maglor and Maedhros's fosterage of Elrond and Elros.

Two scenes from the third kinslaying: the sack of Sirion and the adoption of Elrond and Elros by Maglor and Maedhros.

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

Elros and Elrond enact their plan to escape from their kidnappers and find allies along the way. Reunions are made in the dense forest of southernmost Ossiriand, just not the ones that were expected.

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).

A collection of drabbles primarily featuring male characters from the Legendarium

One set of twins meets another. A tragic start to the kidnap family, from Amrod's point of view.

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.

“I do love you, Russandol. You know I do, do you not?”
For a long, drawn-out moment, Maedhros only stares. Something is taking root in his chest, something he knows, then, he will not be able to extricate from himself again. “I know,” he says, voice rough. “I—“
But Fingon stops him, pressing a hand to Maedhros’ mouth. “Don’t, not yet; tell me when we see each other next.”
Five times they share their own small ritual upon separation and reunion, and one time it takes a little longer than either of them can endure to mark its completion.

Everyone, including the Valar, are convinced that Fingon and Maedhros are lovers no matter how many times they explain that they very much are not. When will they get it through their thick skulls that there are other ways to love and be committed to someone? Apparently not soon enough. When the Valar decide to involve Maedhros and Fingon in their meddling, it leads to some interesting circumstances.
A queerplatonic take on Maedhros and Fingon's relationship for Russingon Week, with some Gil-Galad parentage exploration for fun.

And of course, of course it is about the boats. Fingon wants—oh, Fingon wants to forgive Maedhros so badly, but he dreams of leaping flames, of the feeling in his chest like something is crushing his ribs, slowly, inevitably, to dust and grime.
“What do you want, Makalaurë?” he asks again, except that this time, it comes out angry. He has ever had an atrocious grip on his temper.
“You should ask him about it.”
Forgiveness takes time and honesty. Fingon has never been a patient person; Maedhros, in recent times, has not been an honest one.
Eventually, they work it out.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”
Findekáno stills, and finally looks at Maitimo. Finds him already staring back, unflinching and—hungry, almost, Findekáno would call it, if he did not know better.
“I have not,” he says, his heart hammering madly inside his rib cage. Still, he adds, all bravado, “Why? Have you?”
It starts reckless and stupid. Which is to say, it starts with them.

Little moments of reflection with Maglor as he comes to terms with grief. A collection of drabbles and other short writings to accompany One in the Deep Waters.