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.

Ingwë, Finwë, Elwë and Olwë each make decisions that change their lives -and Elvish history- forever.
(Written for the Teitho-challenge ‘crossroads’ an eternity ago)

The Great Journey viewed from Elwë’s eyes, from the morning of their leaving to the very last Finwë ever heard from him.
(And don’t come at me for the title, I can explain xD I’ve never watched RoP and never will, but I love that song, because to me, that’s totally Elmo’s song. Not guilty at all of fitting everything in my headcanons at all, nooooooo, never.)

Taking my boys out of Doriath and into a modern AU, so they can be sweethearts without me tearing the relationship between Elu and Melian apart.
On their last day of term, Elu comes home from uni sick. Mablung knows how to make him better.

For this month’s ‘The Only Thing To Fear’-challenge, I tried something a little different- which was to write short ficlets for as many prompts as possible. (Admittedly, I wanted them to be drabbles at first, but I just couldn’t manage).
Some of these turned more into PTSD-stories than phobias, but I think it still fits the challenge.

Míriel invents pants.

A Noldo follower of Fëanor laments the First Kinslaying and the Flight of the Noldor

Short fanworks for the following prompts:
• hurt, delusions, tandem, fly
• The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea.
• Oh, this spacious sky/Is not poetry enough for our swelling lungs
• Smells like teen spirit generator: annoying siblings
• From a random page of On Fairy-Stories: beauties, terrors, sun, power
• Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy.

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

Along with her newly demonstrated concept for flying, Tindomiel has to explain a few other things from California.

Dior did not see the arrow until it pierced his own flesh, a hard thrust of a point entering his back and blossoming out of his heart. The pain of the wound, and the feeling of his body in uncertain panic around it, was almost secondary to his curiosity.
Now what?
Dior felt strangely detached, as if he had stepped out of his body. He watched himself fall over the body of the Golodh he’d slain. Dior had worn no helm nor armor that day – and he saw his hair fan out to cover them both. They died together in the dark cloak of it.
Dior’s eyes closed, and all was dark.
~
And then Dior opened his eyes.

Set in Cuiviénen. The future kings of the Eldar discuss Oromë's invitation. There is cake, and tea.
Very canon-ish, sorry.

Interludes with Finwë, from before the Journey to after.

About Olwë, the king of the Teleri in Aman, little is known, but a series of difficult events marked his life until he fades from the pages of The Silmarillion in the First Age.

Written for Understory-challenge, inspired by StarSpray's story 'Rising as if Weightless'.
While his court is still enjoying the feast he gave in honour of the Princes of Doriath That Was, Olwë stands alone before the mosaic depicting him and his brothers.

“Oh,” Elwing said faintly. She felt the need to sit down, but locked her knees against it. “Then—have they been released from Mandos, my lord? I had not heard that you came in person to deliver such news.”
“They have not, not yet,” said Námo, and to Elwing’s surprise his mouth softened into a small smile, there and gone again in the blink of an eye. “Your brothers are still very young; Mandos is not a place for children to grow. They are ready to return to the world, but unlike most others who pass through my halls they cannot make the journey across Valinor alone. Come to the gates of my halls with all swiftness, and you will find your brothers there.” He inclined his head, and was gone.

The tide played around the horizon, only beginning to consider its daily sweep up the beach to the toes of Alqualondë. Eärwen waved to the far-off breakers and slid down to the wet sand, then turned and lifted Anaïre down. Anaïre pecked her on the cheek in thanks, and they started up the beach to the strand and the woman lying there sobbing for breath.
She did look young, close-up. That is, she looked like an Elf who had just reached full maturity, except where she did not. Around the eyes she bore little crinkles like the seafarers did, on her heaving belly the lightning-marks of pregnancy, and two fascinating rivers of silver ran into the light-gulping blackness of her hair from the temples. And, of course, there were the feathers

“Let us not perish here in the long darkness,” Balan said softly, crossing back to take one of the waiting wreaths and set it upon his own brow, “these creatures you chose to form. Remember us, here in our frailty.”
It is Yuletide. The Atani and Finrod celebrate throughout the night as they stay awake to greet the dawn after the Longest Night. Balan's people settle into Estolad, Atani traditions abound, and Finrod faces some memories.

Earendil comes home to Elwing's Tower in Aewellond (the Bird-haven) to rest from his labors, and finds her just beginning hers. She's been...nesting in his absence.
He hadn't counted on Elwing's bird-skinchanging affecting her like this...

As Minwe's wife labors to bring their fourth child into the world, he finds himself seeking out his middle children. The firstborn son of Enel can't help but worry for them.
Solwe, who will one day be called Olwe Lindaran, and his twin Solwen, or Olwen, have always loved the water, dangerous though it may be...

It happened in the days of the First Age--
Or, how Elwing got those ships.

The main theme of the Non-Canon stories here will be Humor/Parody, bordering on the "Heretic". Please do not read if you are easily offended by these contents.
All stories will contain much adult language, innuendo, nudity, suggestive/compromising positions, and many embarassing situations for the characters, especially the Fëanorions and Mary Sue.

Olwë witnesses Estë soothing an injured eagle.
back to middle earth month 2021
day 2: Valar.

Returning to a once-loved place after losing the one who made it special is difficult... and yet, sometimes, it might be rewarding in a new way.

"Try your hand at a form of fanwork you have not done before"
It has been said that the Silmarillion is unfilmable. That's probably true - but could it be made into a TV series as per Game of Thrones? (With, hopefully, a better ending).
This will (I hope) contain the suggested scripts for episodes of various seasons of a Silmarillion TV series.

The ships bearing the Army of the West are returning to Alqualondë. Eärwen's mother is waiting.