Fanworks Tagged with Mature Themes

The departure from Dorthonion, as seen through the eyes of the child Rían.

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Even in blissful Aman, Celebrimbor makes swords. (Drabble.)

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A woman of the Faithful is heartbroken to learn that her beloved Inzilbêth will be forced to marry the king Ar-Gimilzôr.

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After Lalaith's death, Morwen refuses to weep.

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Passing headlights sweep across the wall, yellow and striped through the blinds. In the distance a siren wails, and in the dark, quiet hotel room they lie facing each other, each curled toward the other like parentheses, with thousands of years of history tucked between them.

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Fëanor shrugged, studying the contents of his wine glass. “Something must be done about that house. It will fall down eventually.”
“It does not follow that it must be you that tears it down single-handedly. Are you sure you do not want help?”
“It’s not as though I have much else to do. I need to build something new there,” he said after a few moments. “To do that, I must first clear away the old and broken things.”

Decades out of Mandos, too many things in Fëanor's life remain broken. He can't do anything except wait for his sons to come to him, but he can do something about the old and crumbling house where they once lived. 

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Turgon cannot be above the law. 

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The sea has called to Elwing all her life, and beside its waters is where she wishes her sons to be born. It is not an easy birth. The sea takes, and the sea gives.

Thank you to AnnaRobots for beta-ing!

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Aredhel enjoys watching her Feanorians play.

For S&D 2025, NSFW Slide 24 - Finding Relaxation by Fiamma Galathon

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Rescued from a brutal Angband hunt, an ex-thrall with a strange and powerful artifact embedded in his spine is brought to Himring, for it is one of the only places in Beleriand which welcomes such folk. Though he has no memories of his life before, Anniavas slowly becomes accustomed to his new life and finds he has a queer connection with Maedhros, Himring's lord. As their intimacy grows, however, so do the dangers surrounding them, both without and within. What secrets are hidden inside the depths of Anniavas's lost memories--and how will those with whom he is forging and deepening bonds react, when those secrets are at last revealed?

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A Petrarchan sonnet on the ruins of Ost-in-Edhil.

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 Last night, the King’s Men put to death a large group of dangerous radicals in the Artists’ Quarter of Armenelos.  Caught only a few hours before their planned assassination attempt on Tar-Míriel, they forced our heroic enforcers to battle for their very lives.  Unfortunately, the splinter group of Faithful fanatics were unwilling to surrender peacefully.  A large number of weapons, including incendiary devices, were recovered from the basement of the house in which they had been planning their cowardly and devious attack. Although all of the royal guard survived, one of their number was carried to the local hospital with severe injuries; he is expected to recover.  
    Citizens are asked to report any unusual activity to the King’s Men. Now, more than ever, Númenor must stand together against those who would destroy her.
    —Short Bulletin in the Armenelos Times, Year 11 of the reign of Ar-Pharazôn

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In which Celebrían encounters a satsuma plum, the piercing insight of Finrod Felagund, and the two decide to paint each other’s skin. Or, Celebrían and Finrod do trauma recovery in their own unique way.

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She had considered, for a brief while, volunteering to take her mother’s place. To run and hide the two of them away on the coast, well away from the dangers of the north. But her brother deserved better than that. If he could not have both parents, then he should at least have one, and not just an older sister who knew nothing of raising children. And besides, her father needed her here. She was still his heir apparent. The first resort and line of defense. It was her who had the training and the knowledge to lead their people if anything should happen to their lord, and the lineage to reinforce her claim. But something deep in her chest, sitting somewhere behind her still-beating heart, went sharp at the thought. If she did take her father’s place, she feared it would not be for long.

Sighing, she lifted her baby brother up and kissed his forehead. His skin was still soft, the way that infants’ was. This might be the last time she would ever see him.

What a burden to place on the shoulders of a child who was only just seeing his first winter

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Aegnor cut him off, eyes blazing in self-defense as he slipped into the half-forbidden tongue of their mother’s people. “I did not know that you knew each other when—”

“That does not matter!” Finrod said, also dropping Sindarin in favor of Telerin. It was easier to argue in the language of their childhood rather than diplomacy. Besides, it afforded them some privacy. “It shouldn’t matter whether she knew me or not! You should not have done this!”

or: Aegnor panics, makes a decision, and goes to his oldest brother for validation. It does not end well.

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Galadriel could never have been expected to take the news of Finrod's death well.

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A sound came, then, that was not sleet or wind or the heavy breathing of one who slept. It was footsteps, crunching in the ice outside. They stopped for a moment, and the tent flap opened, granting entrance to both Ingoldo and a cold gust of air. His face was red with cold.
“How did it go?” he asked in a low voice as Ingoldo turned to secure the flap once more.
“As well as can be expected.”

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Maedhros stands at the battlements of Himring and faces Thangorodrim.

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As a very young elfling, Mablung's heart chooses its companion, and Mablung stays true to this love until the end of his life in Middle-Earth.

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In the wake of the Final Battle of the Last Alliance, Erestor struggles to keep moving and to reach out to friends and family.

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The elves of Beleriand lose the first battle against Morgoth. The Noldor find the free lands they'd been looking for. Lúthien is on the warpath.
And the First Age still is as bloody as it is in canon.
(Please read the author's notes, there will reading-instructions, as this is my first attempt at a deconstructed fic)

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The events of Redhorn pass cleave a distance between Celebrían and Elrond neither have felt before. That one terrible event sends shockwaves down the long years that come after.

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When Maedhros returns from Mandos, re-connecting does not prove easy. Nerdanel is determined to care for her son and finds that she must confront grief along the way.

In my dreams my sons wander at length, lost in pathless woods, ancient, sunless and foreboding. In the waking world, Maedhros breathes and moves before me, but is rarely truly there. I see the dream-wraith Maedhros superimposed over my living son, and am sure he never found a path out of that desolate place. The whispers in my dreams insist he never will.

Written for Scribbles and Drabbles 2025 Prompt #53: Night Watch by Zhie, to whom credit belongs for the artwork below (which can also found here).

Many thanks to Elronds_Library and timelessutterances for beta reading, and Double_Sharp for the conversations on equatorial climate.

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“What if,” said Manwë, regarding Maedhros with star-bright eyes, blue as sapphires and piercing as blades, “you were sent from these Halls for a purpose, son of Fëanáro?”
“I suppose, my lord,” Maedhros said slowly, “that would depend upon the purpose.”

Maedhros is sent back to Middle-earth, in the company of the Maia Olórin. 

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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.

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