New Challenge: Allusive
Literature and art constantly refer back to each other using allusions, and this month's prompts are inspired by allusions to literature, myth, art, and history.

In a happier universe Aredhel slips away from Nan Elmoth earlier with her little twilight child in tow. Eöl never catches them. Safe in Himlad, surrounded by family and lavished with love, Maeglin cuddles up to Celegorm one moonlit night as he tells him the story of Tilion the Hunter.
Written for Scribbles & Drabbles 2025 Art Prompt #174: Cuddle Pile in a happier universe by Fiamma Galathon. You can find this absolutely gorgeous artwork here.

In the wide, water-bound delta lands of the Sirion grow reeds taller than any man. Following the estuary to its end one finds the waterways open onto great white-sanded beaches, stretching as far South as half-elven eyes can behold. Elwing takes Elrond and Elros downriver to the beach for the day and together they discover small everyday wonders.
Written for Scribbles and Drabbles 2025 Prompt #115: A Beach Day by Myrtaceaae. Their sweet artwork can be found here. Seriously, go check it out, Myrtaceaae makes such gorgeous pieces.

Melkor and Ungoliant take a ship to Middle Earth after their latest IRL trolling succeeds.

Feanor develops something even better than the Silmarils.

Galadriel returns to Aman at the end of the Third Age and finds it much changed, just as she herself has changed since she left. There, she reunites with many figures from her past, including a former mentor, seeks answers to loose threads, and ponders the fate of those left behind in Middle-earth. Drawing on a rich array of characters and references, this story considers, among other questions, what became of Galadriel, Frodo, and others after they sailed into the West, why Melian abandoned Doriath, and Galadriel's perspective on the long-term implications of Arwen's choice.

Tilion has always been a dreamer. After a long night wandering star-strewn paths Tilion dreams himself back to Irmo's domain and rests in the gardens.
Written for Scribbles and Drabbles 2025 Prompt #197: Tilion Dreams by Lingwiloke.
Many thanks to Double_sharp for the stimulating conversations and beta reading this one for me!
You can listen to an audio recording of this work here.

War is never quiet. Not like this. Tonight, there is a hush in which the grass whispers, birds sing undisturbed and brooks murmur gaily, wending their way between the trees, heeding no danger, anticipating no pain. This apparently, is peace. I find it unsettling.
Elrond has never known anything but conflict. As peace settles over the land he must reckon with the unknowns it brings and his place within the future, all while facing the biggest decision of his life.
Written for Scribbles and Drabbles 2025 Prompt #170: Small Birds, Dry Grass by Vinyatar. Their beautiful artwork can be found here.

A death and a rebirth. Proud Nōwē sunk to the depths as the Shipwright rose, foresighted and wise beyond all else on these shores. And his name was refuge, steadfast friendship and succour in time of need. A cry died unvoiced in his throat, the death knell of the brave and daring young Nōwē. Círdan would have to be so much more.
Written for Scribbles & Drabbles 2025 Art Prompt #85: There is No Ship by Shadow, which can be found here.
The title is taken from lyrics of There Is No Ship by Rose Betts.
Listen to an audio recording of this work here.

His life in Valinor.

Idril was trying

The twins were bored. That, in Tyelkormo's experience, was a very, very bad thing, more so when Maitimo wasn’t actually home to deal with the terror and he was himself supposed to be the Responsible Adult.

Galadriel is curious about one facet of Mithrandir's plan for dealing with the dragon.

Bad dreams?” I ask, and Elrond nods. When I brush against his mind it laps like the tide against some desolate shore, and he stands alone in the washed out landscape. Young eyes rove over a heartless sea where the horizon is empty of all but tossing waves. White cliffs are at his back, reeds peek over sandy dunes southward along the shore, and Elrond’s heart fills with the hollow echo: no longer my home, no longer my home.
There is a new star in the sky and and old fears surface. Maedhros supports through Elrond and Elros through their ensuing emotional turmoil as he battles his own.
Written for the SWG October Challenge 2025: The Only Thing to Fear using the prompt: fear of being alone.

Elwing flies across the ocean but she is tired and doesn't know how much farther she can go
For November 2025 instadrabbling

Finarfin wishes for a simple end

A stranger and a stranger stranger talk and dream about their fears.

Robert Oppenheimer finds himself back in the Jornado del Muerto desert with Fionn and Saunders in this epilogue to Trinity, inspired by Anérea's illustration that accompanies Grundy's interview with me for Mereth Aderthad 2025.

Vingilot was a magnet for bugs, and Eärendil feared coming back to land because of it.

Once, in gold-cast days of careless bliss, the three of you used to be—something. A triangular shape, always revolving around each other. Warm hands, late nights, a tangle of limbs in opulent beds. A reprieve, a stolen treasure, and you all thought, then, that it could always be like that; that one day, the world would bend to your folly, and all would be well.
What fools you had been.
Fingon, Finrod, the Ice, and the gaping space between them.

"I think something is going to happen soon.”
“Something good or something bad?” Maglor asked.
“Something important,” Elros said, looking suddenly very serious and far older than his years. He and Elrond both looked at Maglor with starlit eyes under shadowy hair, Melian’s children whom the birds and the stars would both love.

Miriel returns quietly, without fanfare.

On a sunny day in spring, Frodo got the urge to go north and west, up into Arnor, which was still quite wild and uninhabited outside of newly-built Annúminas, and the slow trickle of work happening around the ruins of Fornost, which even the Dúnedain were still sometimes reluctant to visit. When he spoke of his plan, his dad told him to remember to pack enough food and not to forget a bit of rope, and his mother said not to forget his cloak. Most of his siblings were too young yet to be permitted to go along, but Elanor immediately asked if he wanted company.

An attempt at a hobbit-song, inspired by a musical instadrabbling prompt.

Pallando the Blue Wizard arrives in Middle Earth in the Middle of the Second Age to aid the Elves of Lindon and Eregion in their war against Sauron. Almost at once, he abandons his post, leaving the war effort to Alatar his partner, and travels East. Some force compels him to go to the Red Mountains, his feet drawing him ever on towards the Gates of the Sun at Kalorme. Along the way he will go to the ruins of Belegost, encounter Daeron the Loremaster lingering on the shores of Lake Nenuial, and travel the Old Dwarf Road to Gundabad to council the Longbeards on the war in Eregion. But he is drawn thence to the Eastern shores of Rhun, where an ancient mystery from a lost realm of the Avari awaits him: the realm of Palisor. It is King Tu, last King of the Wild Elves, who from his seat in the underground lake on the Eastern Shores of Rhun, holds the key that will save the Men of the East — or put them under the Shadow forever.