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.

Hador has been granted the lordship of Dor-lomin. Persuading his father to relocate there from the southern slopes of Ered Wethrin will not be easy, though.

In Dor-lómin, Tuor and Lady Aerin both dream of a golden-haired child. (Lalaith is doing her best, considering that she's a young child and also dead.)

Hope is a weapon. Hope is a skill.
or, the art of not giving up in the face of the impossible, as seen through the eyes of fifteen people living in First Age Beleriand.
16 perfect 100 words drabbles, exploring this concept.

Fingolfin is confused by the rumors that spread through the elven settlements of Beleriand like a wildfire. So is his daughter found and alive, or not? And what is this utter poppycock about Celegorm getting pregnant?

Celegorm and Aredhel ride towards the Aglon Pass through the rain.

The enchantments woven into the woods of Nan Emloth are nothing compared to maternal love.
And so, Aredhel grabs Lómion and runs.
The enchantments woven into the woods of Nan Emloth are nothing compared to the grief of knowing you could had saved your loved one.
And so, Celegorm waits.

“He is my brother,” Ñolofinwë says once more, willing her to understand. “He is half of me. What is a fëa worth if half of itself is gone?”
Ñolofinwë is scared that if he takes all that his brother is, and unravels the braid, takes out all of the love, winds what’s left back together — he is so terribly afraid that it will turn into a bitter hatred so dark and violent it may finally rival his brother’s.
He cannot risk that. He cannot. Better to die with love in his heart than live and become an angry, bitter version of himself.
Or: Ñolofinwë begins coughing up flowers and Fëanáro learns that hatred does not erase the duties of a brother.

After the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, Glorfindel cares for a wounded Ecthelion and grapples with his fear.

Elladan and Elrohir demand the tale of how their favorite doll came to Imladris many centuries ago. Glorfindel the Doll obliges.

Maedhros has received an invitation to one of Elu Thingol's exclusive charity galas. She opts to take her sister as a plus-one. She'll probably regret that.
The apocalypse is upon Bree and Middle-Earth! Strange creatures roam the streets, and a fell light shines on the world. (Art for TRSB 2025) (Warning for some flickering.)

A story about stew and how many people cook the same dish across the years. Spanning all the way from the Adanel and her family to the wedding of Aragorn and Arwen.
Across millennia, people come together to share food and good company.

All written for SWG instadrabbling sessions. Updated in January 2026 with Aredhel.

“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.

On the night after the coronation, the wind was cold. Fires still burned in the north; their light could be seen, flickering on the far reaches of the horizon, but they provided no warmth. A figure stood on the ramparts of the keep at Hithlum, where the ceremony had been held, more solemn than joyous. The wisdom of having so many of the rulers so near the great darkness to the north, given what had happened– what was happening– was questionable, at best. But their luck held. For now.
A conversation between two kings of the Noldor.

...everyone here seemed to think Daeron should return to them equally unchanged, the same merry minstrel he had been long ago before the Girdle had been breached. He was yet a minstrel, and he was often merry, but he had seen and done so much that so many here could never even imagine. He had come very close to death more than once, and yet survived. He did not care what others might think of him, really—except for a select few—but it would be tiresome to be always catching them off guard, and his love for one of the sons of Fëanor would catch many very much off guard, he knew.
Daeron settles back in among his own people, travels to Tirion--and meets Fëanor.

THEY ARE NOT IN LOVE!

A short and very personal essay that is a mix of defense-of-genre-fiction and processing my relationship with my dad. Not intended to tell anyone else how to feel about the fiction they consume, just trying to sort myself out.

Ósanwë gives an intimacy to relationships that is almost unmatched.

After the Dagor Aglareb, Maglor and Fingon help Maedhros relax.
Distant sequel to this fic, also featuring Maedhros as a trans woman.

Argon, my sweet, foolish, impetuous youngest brother, ran ahead. I found him, you know, before he died.
Fingon remembers the first rising of the Moon and Sun, mourns his youngest brother and resolves that his cousin will not share Argon's fate.

Well, Fëanor frightened him. Fëanor frightened them all, still, in one way or another.
Fëanor's sons receive letters from him, and try to decide what to do.

Éowyn decides to join the Ride of the Rohirrim to Minas Tirith. A poem in alliterative verse.

The fall of the Witch-king of Angmar, as told in the meter of Hiawatha.

Inspired by Jaz's Mereth Aderthad presentation Twilight, Child of: Comparisons Between Tinúviel, Lómion, and Undómiel and the idea of reversing or exchanging the roles of these three, plus the chat's insistence that there needed to be Arwen/Idril, with Arwen taking on something resembling Maeglin's role.