Fanworks Tagged with Maglor

A collection of flashfic, drabbles, and snippets.

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Following Maglor as he suffers through captivity in Dol Guldur, and his journey to healing afterward. 

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“They left everything behind? All of their families?” Elrond asks.
“Yes.”
“All for a magic stone?” he asks.
“Yes. A very special, very magical stone,” Maglor says, unsure why he should have to justify his deeds to a child.

~~~
Maglor tells Elrond and Elros a story. Maedhros listens.

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Drabbles created (and now polished) from February 15, 2025 Maedhros & Maglor week-themed Instadrabbling session)

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Nerdanel ran her fingers along one, and turned her thoughts to her son, hoping for a glimpse of more than a misty shore, or of the ragged hem of his cloak. She wished to see his face, wished to see that he was somewhere safe and warm and perhaps not still alone after so long. But even a glimpse of him lonely but whole upon the shore would be a relief, and enough to banish the dreams that had troubled her, knowing them for just dreams and nothing more.

Troubled by dark dreams, Nerdanel picks up a palantír to seek for Maglor. She finds him. 

After, Maedhros has returned to life and also seeks for his brother--and also finds him.

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Maglor prepares for the Winter Solstice celebration, but Elrond and Elros disagree with his choice of clothing.

Or: in which the Noldor invented waistcoats

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In the end, what stops him are Tyelpe’s hands.

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She sits alone in her room and pulls the silmaril out. Stares at it in the dark until the light makes her cry. Weighs the blood of her kin staining the Fëanorians hands against the yet unspilled blood of the people she’s been told are her responsibility. Holds the question she’s never been able to answer in her hands and makes herself think — what makes a monster? She knows what her advisors say. She knows what her people whisper. She knows their blood will run red regardless of which set of monsters end up finally coming for them.

or: Elwing is sixteen when she finally comprehends the brutality of the war ravaging Beleriand, when she realizes what it means to be told the people of Sirion are hers to protect. She is sixteen and helplessly in love and her advisor tells her that she is safe in Sirion and she cannot believe him. She comes up with a plan to fix it.

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Tyelkormo was currently outside the house, hiding from his mother.

It was nearly winter and every winter was peak matchmaking activity time in Tirion’s palace. So Nerdanel focused more on her sons at this period since she wanted them to make a good impression so they could find a good wife as was proper for young adult elves. 

Alas, Tyelkormo didn’t want that. 

Works for the Sitcom Bingo : We need a distraction, Failure is the Only Option, and getting volunteered (poor Makalaurë's dramatic so he enjoys being volunteered, worry not, no minstrel was harmed in the writing of this fic).

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A selection of brief writings (mostly conforming to drabbles but some veer into dribble territory) from the SWG events on January 18-19, 2025.

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Maglor performs the Noldolantë and the room reacts.

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Short interaction between Maedhros and Caranthir, written during an instadrabbling session.

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Finrod answers a tutor's question before Caranthir can

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Maglor, a Jedi, gets roped into investigating the theft of the Silmarilli and some Sindarin treasures. His partner? The Singer Daeron.

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The adventure(s) of Jedi Maglor and Singer Daeron.

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Maitimo held his baby brother in his arms, and was surprised when the baby started to emit a melodious sound. 

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Ficlets for the Jubilee Challenge instadrabbling. 

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There is no escaping guilt.

Or,

Maedhros finds another orphan in the woods.

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“Elrond!” Elros screamed, and Elrond had time to see him being held back by Bregolon before everything went topsy-turvy, and the underbrush closed around him, branches and leaves slapping at his face. His head bounced against hard metal, and through the confusion he realized—too slowly—that it had not been one of their party who had grabbed him, but one of the orcs. 

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But at the very end of the letter she spoke of one more prisoner that Elladan and Elrohir had discovered in one of the deepest dungeons of Dol Guldur, locked away behind a door unopened in so long that the hinges had rusted. 

Maglor has been rescued from Dol Guldur, and now faces a long road of healing.

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Just a few of my favourite podfics that I've found soothing for bedtime (or middle of the night, or any time really) listening.

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The mountain has always been a place of growth and safety and memory. It will stand in the face of war and water, fated to last until the end of Arda. The spirit of Himring will watch, and remember.
Or - the history of Arda through the eyes of Himring personified.

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Maglor's wanderings take him up the Anduin, where orcs find him and take him to Dol Guldur--where the Necromancer dwells. 

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As Lúcellë entered the courtyard, which was missing the fountain that had been there previously, instead sporting a much less attractive hole in the ground—clearly awaiting a new creation, whenever Fëanáro or Nerdanel managed to finish it—a young voice called out to her from above. “Aunt Lúcellë!” She looked up to find Macalaurë hanging out of a window, waving, with his dark hair falling over his shoulders and into his eyes. 
 

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Maglor, music, and the Sea.

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