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Towards the middle of the Second Age, a young Dwarf of the Longbeard royal line seeks out answers to the mysterious visions and memories she has begun to see over her waking sight — the answer may be right in front of her, written plainly in the histories of Durin I and his reincarnation, Durin II, but does she have the strength to follow the thread and accept the truth?
Lindir is too good at music to be a nobody and young Arwen has a confused Lúthien complex. Crackship treated seriously.
Sometime in the Fourth Age, Maglor, wandering along the shore, comes across a dying orc.
This leads him to question some of his beliefs and reconsider earlier experiences.
The Feanorians leave blood and ash in their wake, and Thranduil searches for Elrond and Elros in the wreckage of the Havens.
The Third Kinslaying: the calm before the storm and the aftereffects.
A Hobbit lass off on an adventure in the East stumbles across a captive Maglor. Further adventures ensue.
Maedhros never stopped thinking of little cousin Finrod as the Elfling who followed him around pulling at his robes and playing games. Finrod was happy to keep it that way, but Maedhros was bound to find out about the parties someday.
In his youth, Thranduil went on a diplomatic mission to Nargothrond on behalf of Elu Thingol. His report on the trip was remarkably brief.
Finrod was like another little brother to him.
The sundering of the Noldor was bound to leave scars.
As Dior lays dying, yearning to reach twin boys taken from his care, something deep within him cracks and slams into place. There's more of his grandmother Melian in him that he ever thought he would inherit.
Turgon watches Gondolin burn. Someone watches Turgon.
Finrod's first kiss and what Amarië thinks about it.
Thranduil never forgave Elrond for Oropher's death at the Last Alliance, and a thousand years of diplomacy have failed to repair the rift between Rivendell and the Greenwood.
For his final, desperate attempt to seal the breach, Celeborn brings an unlikely ambassador: Arwen Undómiel.
Tauriel doesn't care for this foreign lady. Legolas begs to differ, and Arwen ... Arwen just wants an Adventure.
After his rebirth Nolofinwe knows he can't lie to Anaire any longer, even if the chance of Maedhros to ever be reborn is slim.
After stepping into a chasm filled with fire, Maedhros finds himself in an eerily familiar house.
Finduilas considers the question whether she ever had a rebellious phase and remembers an episode from her childhood.
Two drabbles written at the Holiday Party instadrabbling event.
1. Maedhros almost (but not quite) makes his little brothers cry. Russingon. Valinor, Years of the Trees.
2. Sauron does something genuinely nice to someone. Tol Sirion, First Age.
Ulfang's daughters(in-law) seek aid in the aftermath. Reckoning with their own grief and choices (or lack thereof) they navigate Angband, the nightmare they grew up with, now the only place they can turn for help.
Happy New Year 1230 S.A.! At the New Year’s party, Celebrimbor and Annatar are intoxicated with each other, among other things.
Written for SWG Challenge Holiday Party. Prompt: A Long-Expected Party.
A pair of young twins are lost in the wood.
In the tradition of folktales changing over time, I've written three endings, narrated in different voices. So this tale comes in three sizes: happy, medium, and sad. (And I'm not entirely sure myself which is which.)
Beleg and Mablung only meant to hunt for food, but they find something in the forest that leads them on the trail of a more dangerous quarry.
"But when Estel was only twenty years of age, it chanced that he returned to Rivendell after great deeds in the company of the sons of Elrond; and Elrond looked at him and was pleased, for he saw that he was fair and noble and was early come to manhood, though he would yet become greater in body and in mind. That day therefore Elrond called him by his true name, and told him who he was and whose son; and he delivered to him the heirlooms of his house."
The story of how Estel became Aragorn.
"River-daughter!" Indis appeared from between some tents. She was dressed for hunting, with her hair coiled around her head in thick braids, and with a spear on her shoulder. Usually her hair and clothes were adorned with beads of wood and clay that clicked together in rhythm with her steps, but now she moved silently, quiet as the owl that the River-daughter had greeted earlier.
Indis was, however, much lovelier than any owl. "Are you leaving?" the River-daughter asked her.