New Challenge: Title Track
Tolkien's titles range from epic to lyrical to metaphorical. This month's challenge selected 125 of them as prompts for fanworks.

Caranthir lay on the cold ground of Menegroth, gasping, when he heard it. Her.
“Don’t cry,” she whispered, calm, soothing.
He sobbed.
Caranthir is dying. Haleth is there to take him home.
for S&D 2025 Slide 102

Dior prepares for his final standoff with the Sons of Fëanor.
Scribbles and Drabbles SFW Art 54 - Last Stand by PeasantPlayer

When Celebrimbor's attempts at forging the Rings of Power fail yet again, Annatar knows where to find the missing know-how.
For all the wrong reasons, Celebrimbor agrees to an expedition to the ruins of Angband to search Morgoth's own laboratory, deep in the icy Northern Wastes.
What awaits those two in the Hells of Iron?
A spooky season special, inspired by H.P. Lovecraft's 'At the Mountains of Madness'.

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?

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

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

Amid the devastation of Nírnaeth Arnoediad Fingon reaches out to Maedhros with one last command: 'you must not follow me', and Maedhros remembers the last sweet hours they spent together before the battle.
"Promise me something, beloved.”
This, the only time he allows fear to break through before the battle, catches my attention. I extend my neck to see creases of care in the corners of his mouth. “Mm? What is it?”
“Promise me you will find your place in the world to come, beyond tomorrow,” he lowers his voice to a whisper, “whether I am by your side or not.”
Written for Scribbles & Drabbles 2025 Art Prompt #51: And his banners they trod into the mire of his blood by Fiamma Galathon. You can find the artwork here.

Maedhros has been captured by Morgoth's forces after the Dagor-nuin-Giliath. Left to rot on his own in a dark cell who knows where, he almost starts believing this will be the end to his story. He was wrong. They were coming for him, as well.

"Gather your strength, Daeron. I will get you to the Ford of Bruinen.”
“Will you swear it, kinslayer?” Daeron asked, voice heavy with irony and with something else Maglor couldn’t quite identify.
He paused for a moment. Then he said, “Yes.”

In the Year 1405, the Witch-King of Angmar begins his plan to conquer the northern kingdoms of Arthedain and Cardolan. Rhudaur is mostly under his control but Dunadan Houses Melosse and Rhudainor stand in his way in the southeastern part of the failed kingdom. He brings an Easterling mage, Ethacali to lead the effort to remove any resistance to his coming war.
Based on and inspired by the MERP RPG module of that name. Image courtesy of the Dark Mage of Rhudaur RPG.


After his release from the Halls of Mandos, Melkor seduces many of the Noldor with honeyed words and accusations against the Valar. The Two Trees are ruined and the Sun and Moon arise. One of these elves, Ardana the Astrologer, leads her people to return the skies to their original form, nothing but stars. But she must destroy the Sun and Moon to accomplish that from her holds in the south of Middle Earth.
This is a non-canon story that is inspired by an MERP RPG series that was a gift from my aunt. Most of the characters and settings were from the series and some quotes and songs are taken from Tolkien's writing. It also ties in with the Wars in Beleriand and two my other two stories, The Dark Mage of Rhudaur and The Thieves of Tharbad. The story is designed to span three ages.


War is upon the northern kingdoms as the Witch-King of Angmar unleashes his fury against Arthedain and Cardolan in the year 1409 of the Third Age. Annuminas, Amon Sul and the Barrow Downs are destroyed by the armies of Angmar and the Royal Family of Cardolan is slain, except for one young lady. A group of adventurers attempts so survive and to help rebuild the kingdom with a spoiled princess as refugees and hostile agents stream into the capitol of Tharbad.
This is a non-canon story, inspired by an MERP RPG series. Arthedain and Cardolan stand against Angmar and the puppet kingdom of Rhudaur. This is a sequel to The Dark Mage of Rhudaur and contains a number of the same characters. It will also tie into The Court of Ardor. There will be occasional quotes from Tolkien's writing to flesh out the story.

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.)

Three intrepid stellar explorers witness a crack in the edge of the universe and are guided by an ancient spirit animating an automaton to a strange and unexpected place where they hope to rescue their kidnapped cat. A cat who may hold the future--or its inevitable end--in his far-too-ancient paws.

Order is his goal, something Morgoth only uses to create chaos later, but there is a sliver in Morgoth only Mairon sees.

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.

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

The Gap falls. Hemmoril and Maglor try to cope, with varying success.

Brandir of Brethil also loved Niënor, and his death stands among the tragedies of the Children of Húrin: an alliterative poem.

If Aredhel had to listen to one more person heap praise on her brother while she stood right beside him, completely disregarded, she might scream. The praises were well deserved, she must admit. But was it only Fingon who scouted ahead over the treacherous shifting ice of the Helcaraxë? Didn’t Aredhel also take her fair share of that hazardous duty?
In the early days at Lake Mithrim, Aredhel endures a restriction in her freedom after the comparative autonomy she had during the crossing of the Helcaraxë. Fingolfin seems set on weighing her down with safe and mundane duties. Aredhel is not enjoying this one bit. Her father may be able to keep her inside the encampment, but he cannot tame her. She longs to for greater freedom, but when it comes it is not be the victory she was hoping for.

Maedhros finds that regret and pain do not end with death. But it does at last bring release from the oath and he can at last embark upon the long, hard road toward redemption.

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the lantern light. He stared at Elrohir with a strange look—horror and helpless fear mixed with longing and perhaps…recognition? But Elrohir did not recognize him, he was sure. And there was something else in his eyes too—a Light that Elrohir had seen before only in a handful of people, dimmed by pain and fear, but not extinguished. “It’s all right,” Elrohir said. “We’re going to take you away from this place.”
The Necromancer is driven from Mirkwood, and Elladan and Elrohir find someone altogether unexpected in the pits of Dol Guldur.

As the Sons of Fëanor set their feet on the path to the sack of Doriath, Caranthir reflects on the characters of himself and his brothers and contemplates where the responsibility lies for their predicament.

Daeron is caught by orcs in the shadow of the Ephel Dúath, but is rescued by someone entirely unexpected.

They passed out of Lhûn and the wider coastline of Middle-earth opened up before his eyes. He had wandered those shores for centuries, and even now he felt the pull of that same wanderlust, and knew he would miss them for the rest of his life. Their wildness, the untamed waves, the rocky shores and the cliffs and the sandy beaches. The gulls, and the dunes, and the tide pools with their ever-changing denizens. Someone began to sing a song of farewell, and other voices took it up. He did not join them.
Maglor keeps a promise, and comes to Valinor, only to find the ghosts he thought he'd left behind are alive and waiting for him.