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These were simply flashes, a hint of a wider, greater world. A tantalizing glimpse of more, always at the edge of awareness, never within reach. Míriel would grasp it, if something as intangible as the concept of color could overflow in bounteous wonder over her hands.
But then fire was caught, tamed and kept and cherished, and their world was suddenly awash with light. The world expanded, a pageantry of blues and greens and browns. A cacophony of color, overwhelming in its saturation.
In which Míriel falls in love with the colors in the earliest days, and Indis too.

Fëanor shrugged, studying the contents of his wine glass. “Something must be done about that house. It will fall down eventually.”
“It does not follow that it must be you that tears it down single-handedly. Are you sure you do not want help?”
“It’s not as though I have much else to do. I need to build something new there,” he said after a few moments. “To do that, I must first clear away the old and broken things.”
Decades out of Mandos, too many things in Fëanor's life remain broken. He can't do anything except wait for his sons to come to him, but he can do something about the old and crumbling house where they once lived.

One drabble per Finwëan. Currently on first and second generations.

Just because something is secret in Beleriand doesn't meant it isn't known in Aman.

Indis, removing herself to a smaller household and resolving to raise her daughter Faniel alone, is suddenly besieged by someone she never expected: Míriel Þerindë, her husband's wife.

Miriel returns quietly, without fanfare.

Míriel invents pants.

“Come on.” Maedhros grabbed his hand and pulled him along down the path, both of them quickening their pace now, until the trees opened up into a wide meadow filled with flowers, bright yellow celandine and dandelions and sweet-scented pale chamomile mingling with cornflowers and irises. On the other side of it was a larger party than Maglor had ever seen in Lórien—five figures sitting in the grass. Huan barked again, and they all looked up. “It seems everyone has come to fetch us home,” Maedhros said, laughing, as all their brothers scrambled to their feet.
After years in Lórien, Maglor and Maedhros are ready to return to their family and to make something new with their lives--but to move forward, all of Fëanor's sons must decide how, or if, they can ever reconcile with their father.

In Aman, no one dies (unless they are related to Fëanor).

Fëanáro is reembodied as the Fourth Age of the Sun commences, and he has to deal with several things. But there's one thing he cannot quite manage to fix. That is, his relationship with his wife.
Or: five (but more like six) times Nerdanel doesn't reach out, and one time she does.

Klexos: Views of the Death of Míriel (3 Narvinyë - 30 Víressë, 8 Fourth Age) represents the first public exhibition collecting textile-based approaches to the death of Míriel Serindë, including Amanyar and Middle-earth works spanning four ages. The symposium is held in conjunction with this exhibit through the generous collaboration of the University of Valimar.

Little moments of connection with Maedhros. A collection of drabbles and other short writings to accompany One in the Fires of the Heart of the World.

Maedhros finds that regret and pain do not end with death. But it does at last bring release from the oath and he can at last embark upon the long, hard road toward redemption.

Grief awaits you outside these halls, Fëanáro, Nienna told him, her voice like the gentlest fall of rain upon spring leaves.
Grief haunts me inside them, Fëanor replied.

They passed out of Lhûn and the wider coastline of Middle-earth opened up before his eyes. He had wandered those shores for centuries, and even now he felt the pull of that same wanderlust, and knew he would miss them for the rest of his life. Their wildness, the untamed waves, the rocky shores and the cliffs and the sandy beaches. The gulls, and the dunes, and the tide pools with their ever-changing denizens. Someone began to sing a song of farewell, and other voices took it up. He did not join them.
Maglor keeps a promise, and comes to Valinor, only to find the ghosts he thought he'd left behind are alive and waiting for him.

A collection of drabbles about women in Tolkien's Legendarium.

Ficlets for the Jubilee Challenge instadrabbling.

In Valmar, after the Darkening and the Flight of the Noldor, Indis receives a visitor.

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

Indis yearns to stir the sleeping queen of the Noldor.

A very great man dies, and asks if he can be of more help to the universe because it has been so good to him.
...Eru Illúvatar takes him up on the offer.

Something not seen since the Years of the Trees comes to light. (A sequel of sorts to What A Tangled Web We Weave...)

Two queens of the Noldor discuss motherhood.

Interludes with Finwë, from before the Journey to after.