Character of the Month: Eönwë
This month's biography focuses on Eönwë, who started with a variety of identities but settled into the role of Manwë's herald, exemplifying the values of strong leadership and justice.

“Oh.” Frodo’s voice was soft, almost more sigh than sound. “Sam, look.”

The last of the Elven ships are sailing and Maglor’s feet are restless. In the surreal version of reality his mind supplies there are ghosts to wrestle and hard truths to confront. In Tol Eressëa, Nerdanel swallows her own hurts in order to care for her son.
Written for TRSB 2026 Art #114: In Ammë's embrace once more as part of a collaboration with tomefaired based on their absolutely gorgeous cosplay, which can be found in the last chapter and here.

But Aredhel knew better than her mother; she was stronger, she was more willful, she was enlightened. She would not make the same mistakes Anairë had made. She would find a way to do it all differently.
***
Re-embodied in Aman, Aredhel struggles to come to terms with all that has changed, and all that has not.

-This novel was completed for Hobbit Day 2026 and will be updated in serialized fashion here as I make final edits; so feedback is very much welcome.
-It is a multi-generational novel spanning the fgormation of the Shire to the Great Plague Year Thirty-six and focuses on the origins of an old feud between the Bucks and the Tooks.

The Rings have been forged. The armies of Mordor are marching into Eriador. Eregion burns.
Far away from it all, by the shores of the Sea, Celegorm remembers his name.

Erestor finds himself thrust into adventure when Elrond requests his company escorting Arwen to Minas Tirith after the War of the Ring is won. All too aware of the chronic illness that has bound his friend to Rivendell for the past several centuries, Glorfindel has some concerns. Erestor, aware of the risks, is going anyway.
With thanks to Elrond's_Library and Noldor_made_me_do_it for beta-ing. And a shout out to the Leaf and Lore server for encouragement and cheerleading.

Gwindor and Celebrimbor share their fears, after a council meeting in which Túrin got his way.

A lament for Nargothrond, in the aftermath of the Battle of Tumhalad. (Prose poem, also an exact drabble according to MS Word.)

He has perhaps made a great mistake, but it's too late now.

Finarfin was always tired, but suddenly he was exhausted, just by this conversation. It would just go in circles if they let it, neither of them willing to concede to the other. He didn’t have the words for what he really wanted to say—and even if he did he wouldn’t say them. They would be a child’s words, just hurt that he had been left alone while his older brothers and sisters had gone off without him, taking everything with them that he had ever held dear.
Family is complicated, and Finarfin is tired.

Sudden laughter startled Maglor out of his reverie.
Created for TRSB 2026, art 100 is a hand-drawn interlaced star of Fëanor with four of the named points broken (CW: drops of blood).
The fic written for it will be posted in the TRSB 2026 collection after 5 September 2026.

At the end of all days, when sun and moon are no more, Túrin Turambar shall face Morgoth and slay the Foe.
Yet in the dark, the Elves wait in vain for Túrin's return. Beleg Cúthalion knows he will find him. But first, Gurthang, the black sword made of the iron of a fallen star, shall be re-forged. When he visits its smith, Beleg meets someone unexpected.

Over the course of his very long life he had found a handful of messages in bottles, but it had been a very long time. So when he found the glass bottle on his little stretch of pebbly beach, he picked it up with the intention of tossing it into his recycling. But it wasn’t, he found, just another beer bottle.

Freshly re-embodied, Glorfindel realizes that Tol Eressëa has changed, and not just in terms of its architecture.

Berenin ja Andreth Saelindin viimeinen keskustelu
Kirjoitettu Suomalaisten faniteosten viikon viimeistä päivää varten, aiheina "tulen äärellä" ja "kaamos"

It was easier than he had thought it would be to leave his name behind—to put on a new one when needed, like changing one set of clothes for another.

He’d ventured into the little fishing village in search of food and maybe a dry place to sleep for a night of rain and wind—he hadn’t expected this, to be bullied into a hot meal and a healer’s attention.

When uneasy dreams bring him back into Beleriand, Daeron finds a pair of twins who have lost their home, and an enemy who has lost himself. The Shadow's reach is growing ever longer, and if they are to survive, they must do it together.

She shook her head, quietly reveling in the physicality of having her wife’s hands on her. “How can I hold you at fault for the events of the past centuries when you have not been here, able to act?”
Indis has been summoned to the Halls of Vairë on behalf of one thought lost.

A Dwarven merchant travels from Nogrod to the far south in search of greater wealth – and finds something else entirely.

Some journeys cannot be lightened, and some destinies cannot be commanded.
Fëanor rejects Mandos. He burns Halls and leaves ash behind him, as defiant in death as he was in life.
In the Void, he encounters something else.

Galadriel finally has room to breathe.

It occurred to Elwing that she had made a mistake, coming along with these strange, fair folk, when Eärendil asked her, in a voice of such heartfelt earnestness that she nearly pushed him down and rubbed his face in the mud, if she wanted to meet Ulmo.
“Er,” she said, instead of enacting violence, “I don’t know. I’m not wild about strangers.”
Eärendil, who was not so easily dissuaded once he had set his course, did not laugh. “But he knows you already. It is only your heart that is estranged.”
Elwing, Eärendil, and the gifts of the River.