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.

In the First Age, Fingon traveled to Rerir after discovering Turgon's disappearance. In the Fourth Age, he travels to Rerir again in Beleriand Risen.
A tale told in drabbles.

These are the first fanfics I ever read, and they are all truly fabulous and absolutely timeless and 100% recommended!

Snippets of life of a midwinter in Fëanáro and Nerdanel's household in Valinor, during the Age of the Trees.
Prompts will be as follow, taken from the Midwinter Bingo card (board by AdmirableMonster) :
Family ; Carols and Singing ; Death and rebirth ; Candles ; Sledding
Promps taken from the Fluffy Bingo Card (board by DaughterofShadows):
Falling Asleep ; Hot Chocolate

After a drunken night at Minas Tirith, Fingon and Orodreth wake up married with a baby on the way.

Artwork for Elleth’s Potluck Bingo board: starting off appropriately with Piecemeal Palace in Himring — Maedhros’ potlucky manor house, aka where Elrond & Elros grew up ✨

It is not, Maedhros thinks, that Fingon is no longer angry. It is just that Fingon has never let anything as clean-cut as betrayal stop him from loving Maedhros in despite.
After everything, they are just a little insane about each other.

And he would not fool either of them, clearly, claiming that it did not settle something within him that has been in uproar ever since they set foot on Beleriand’s shores.
“Go on,” Maedhros says, his voice gentle now. “Will you not do this for me, Káno?”
Maglor knows what Maedhros is doing, allowing him to pretend. And yet—
And yet. Maglor would not deny him anything, not any longer. He cannot.
Maglor struggles to give up control. Maedhros makes sure that he learns.

Two years before the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, Húrin and Huor journey from Dor-lómin to Eithel Sirion for a war council with their new allies from the East. A story about the stirring of hope and foreshadowing of woe. Well-peppered with humour.

Mairon stood in utter stillness for it seemed to him that the voice of his master mocked him from afar...
At the end of the First Age, Sauron makes a choice.

Fingon returns to Barad Eithel after a late-autumn hunt, finding someone unexpected with his wife. The night takes an even more unexpected turn for all three of them.

This is a collection of true drabbles completed for the 'Four Words' drabble bingo card.

Created for the 'Geography/Maps/Places' prompt on the "Tolkien meta" bingo board, this is a collection of maps marked with the various people groups showing how they arrived and moved about Beleriand. This collection focuses specifically on the time from the arrival of the Teleri, Vanyar, and Noldor before they went to Aman up to the distribution of the various kingdoms after the Flight of the Noldor, when they arrived in Middle-earth and settled there.

An overview of the Sons of Fëanor and their role in Tolkien's Silmarillion writings

This is a history that has never been told. Those whom it concerns most deeply are dead now, even those who chose or otherwise received the lifespans of Elves. It is a story that has been kept hidden for more than six thousand years. Now, I believe it is past time it should be revealed.

There is shame in it, scathing-hot and heavy. If Makalaurë is honest, that only makes it more of a delight.
Everything in Tirion is holy perfection, white-pure and immaculate. This is just the latest desire of breaking something open, of getting to watch how it bleeds over untainted marble.
Maitimo has been avoiding him. Makalaurë deduces why.

Blowjob diplomacy.

"Would it help,” Maedhros starts, his tone pensive and his fingers pressing more firmly against Maglor’s jaw. “Would it help if I did not forgive you as easily? If I punished you for what you did not, could not do?”
It takes a moment for Maglor to understand, Maedhros pushing images into his mind—of rope and chains and bruised skin, of pain and pleasure mingling without release.
It makes him shiver, the thrill quickly followed by shame hot enough that he wants to flinch from it.
Maglor is unable to let go of his guilt. Maedhros gets inventive about it.

“A pity,” Fingon says, and his grin looks only a little forced. “Will you dance with me regardless?”
Maedhros first instinct is to say no. Elbereth, he should say no. But he looks at Fingon with his flushed cheeks, the braids coming loose, the banked hope in his eyes. The way the slant of his mouth reveals that he expects a rejection, and how he asks regardless.
Maedhros has always been terrible at denying him anything. It is why he had put half a continent between them, why he knew that coming here was a mistake before he so much as left Himring’s walls.
Maedhros believes that Fingon deserves something better. Fingon disagrees.

Of Elros and Elrond growing up in the First Age during the War of Wrath.
Chapter 1: circa 562 F.A. - the long winning streak of Finarfin's renowned Liberators comes to an end when an orc raid does not go according to plan, and the twins must accept a new path
Chapter 2: circa 546 F.A. - winds of change reach the Feanorians' remote encampment in Ossiriand, and an unexpected messenger brings news from Valinor
Chapter 3: circa 567 F.A. - years have passed since the Peredhil assumed their new role, when an unexpected detour brings them closer to familiar territory
Chapter 4: circa 547, F.A. - Finarfin has an ultimatum if the Feanorians wish to retain a place in his host during the Great War to come

It is too much to ask, Findekáno knows. If there is one thing he understands it is loyalty, the way it sits on your shoulders, the crushing weight and comforting form of it. Maitimo can no more turn his back on his family than Findekáno can, and that, more than anything, has always been their most wretched similarity.
One last meeting on the Eve of the Fëanorians' exile.

Maglor had expected it to give him an edge. He had not expected to level the battlefield and the forest, everything but Maedhros who remains, untouched and staring at Maglor as if he has been awoken from a long and terrible sleep.
Even their horses are gone. Maglor’s throat feels as if he has swallowed glass.
The first time they are attacked after Maedhros' rescue, Maglor handles it very well.

His gaze, inevitably, is drawn back to Finrod, the marred beauty of him. It has not been Curufin who ruined him so—had not been Curufin who had dragged him out of Nargothrond and into the wolf’s den, who had let Finrod protect him with his life. And yet.
And yet it feels oddly fitting, that such a ruined thing should be Curufin’s.
Through careful manoeuvring and a few lucky coincidences, Curufin saves Finrod's life without having to admit to anything so humiliating as having emotions. Contrary to what one would expect, this does not make things all that much easier.
Alternatively: Curufin lies, Finrod lives, and somehow they do still manage to figure it out, for better or for worse.

Maedhros in Angband

The third kinslaying, as a musical.
Please do not take this too seriously. The writer certainly doesn't.

Maglor comes alive beneath it all the same; is not proud of the noise that makes it out of his throat and cannot bring himself to care, not even a little. He pushes closer, greedy suddenly, so greedy.
They used to do this often, in a time long past; back when the Trees still washed Aman in hallowed light, when their family had been its own world, without running brothers and mad fathers. Back when there were not yet cousins and mountains of guilt between them.
After Maglor loses the Gap, Maedhros offers comfort in the only way he still knows to.