Fanworks Tagged with Check Notes for Warnings

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An Island in the Currents of Time by Himring

A glimpse of Luthien and Beren in Tol Galen. (Luthien's POV)

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Precipice by Flora-lass

On the day of Tuor and Idril's wedding, Maeglin and Voronwë find some common, unstable ground.

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Golden Blessing by glorfindelcorner

Before the destruction of Gondolin, Glorfindel was forced to keep many parts of his life a secret. Much of this changed after his second coming to Middle Earth.

Featuring: Glorthelion, intersex!Glorfindel, mpreg, and queerplatonic Glorestor. 

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Like a branch from a forgetful tree by Himring

In the Third Age, a stranger arrives in the area between the Long Lake and the Lonely Mountain. He is not quite what he seems...

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My Father's Son by AdmirableMonster

Living in Menegroth, Maeglin is summoned home by his father's wife to visit him. Eöl has never been the same since Aredhel's death in childbirth many years ago, and his mental state may be poisoning the very forest around him.

But for the first time, Maeglin does not have to go alone.
 

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These Dark Waves by Himring

Voronwe haunted by the Sea after meeting Tuor in Nevrast: two drabbles.

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if i push, will you pull a little harder? by atlantablack

Fingolfin wants Fëanor absolutely shattered in his bed, his name the only thing in Fëanor's mouth, in his thoughts. He wants to break Fëanor down to his most basic essence, a flame hiding in the body of an elf, and then slowly build him back up again as if feeding a fire on a windy night. Wants to make himself an integral part of the rebuilding so that he can never be erased, never be shoved out. He wants to be fully given what he was always denied—

—Fëanor’s trust. 

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A living soul, absolved from pain by Himring

Hurin at the shore of the Western Sea.

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Grey Summer Garden by Himring

A long time later in Valinor, Maedhros is gathering confidence in his new life with Fingon. He remembers one particular morning during their past lives in Middle-earth.

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The Dark Mage of Rhudaur by AliceNWonder000137

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.

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The Thieves of Tharbad by AliceNWonder000137

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.  

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Into that land he gathered most of his kin by Himring

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.

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Little light of mine (let it shine, please, let it shine) by Fiamma Galathon

The story of the first peredhel, fierce love, and how sometimes the laws of nature will let you think you defied them sucessfully before they catch up to you.

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Black on white, stark and honest by Fiamma Galathon

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?

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Riders in the Rain by Fiamma Galathon

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

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White Lady, Silver Hunter, Child of Twilight. by Fiamma Galathon

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.

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don't go blindly into the dark by atlantablack

“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.

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we begin in Eden, with an apple and a kiss by atlantablack

“If I did not know better,” he says in a low voice, patience frayed thin, “so close do you insist on being to me, that were you anyone else, I would think you are trying to seduce me.” 

Ñolofinwë blinks up at him, eyes hazy and unfocused and so very, very blue. “Would it work if I were?” Ñolofinwë asks in the tone of one who is trying very hard to focus.  

Fëanáro stares. Locks his jaw and does not allow his mouth to drop open in shock. "I know you are drunk, but do be serious, Ñolofinwë," he snaps after a tense moment of indecision on how to respond to such an absurd statement. "You cannot seduce those you share blood with, no matter how little it may be."

“Should not,” Ñolofinwë says promptly, one hand coming up to clutch at Fëanáro’s shirt. “You should not seduce kin. But it is possible if one wishes to.” 

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Digital art of a street in post-apocalyptic Bree. The sky is an unsettling shade of red and yellow, the sign of the prancing pony is half torn-off. A shadowy creature with red eyes is peering through the upper window of the Prancing Pony. The shadow and part of a different creature on the street is hinted at.

Post-apocalyptic Bree by octopus_fool

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.)

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The Most Important Ingredient is Love by daughterofshadows

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.

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If It Be Your Will by LadySternchen

“Melian had but a moment’s warning ere her entire world was violently turned upside down. Maintaining the Girdle came naturally to her these days, without needing her conscious thought or effort. She kept away whoever had no business being in Doriath, shut out the voices and mental attacks that Mairon would hurl at her, hardly noticing that she was doing it at all.

This, however, was different. Very, very different.”

Or: how things might have gone had Morgoth run out of patience waiting for Doriath’s fall. 

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The pure light falling endlessly like rain by Himring

Long afterwards, Elemmire speaks to a stranger about his most well-known work, the lament for the Two Trees.

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A Hundred Miles Through the Desert by StarSpray

“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.

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My Son by polutropos

After his exile to Formenos, Feanor locks himself in the vault with the Silmarils. Makalaure goes to him.

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Walked the Long Way by Himring

Maglor sings the blues.

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