A traditional riddle-song passing along received wisdom on how to find shelter at the Last Homely House. 

(Have you ever wanted to sing טום־באַלאַלײַקע in Quenya? Or… partly in Quenya, as much as my very limited skills allow?)

[Note: Podfic posted as writing because the file size exceeds SWG's native hosting. Please find download links for the mp3 and m4a files in the text.]

From Nortonion, an anthology to keep. This highly anticipated first edition of collected poetic works from the Western Lands of Arda features 13 poets, 27 poems, and innovative audio formatting. The First Audio Edition of The Nortonion Almacombë Lairesto is an excellent tool for teachers and a peerless resource for students.

Tolkienfic inspired by and engaging with Jewish holidays. 

Elemmírë gathers sparks in the Darkness -- light without end.

Contrary to Luimiel’s nemesis, public opinion, it was not illegal to reuse names. How anyone ever thought a policy of strict non-repetition could work was beyond her. Sheer coincidence essentially guaranteed that there were multiple Sea Lovers or Green Jewels or Happy Women striding about Arda, blissfully unaware of their nominal compatriots across the continent, in the Halls, up a mountain retreat somewhere, or even, in these recently troubled times, beyond the Sea. 

One very much could give one’s child a name that had been used before, and, frankly, Luimiel thought, looking across her desk at the unfortunate infant first in line to be registered today, she wished more people would.

Ten years after the Valar pulled Númenor dripping from the sea, Elros receives a visitor.

They have no choice but to build a life together.

That was how it had begun, that hope for a tangible reminder of the past, of victory and hope against the odds. Two candles then for what was lost, and wine and bread for those still living.

Celebrimbor kisses Narvi. Narvi kisses Celebrimbor. Somehow, Celebrimbor is still perplexed.

Amrod and Amras, reborn in Valinor, come to see Elwing. Podfic of Anna_Wing's story.

Eärwen as a young maiden of the Swan-haven, surrounded and supported by family, and the intersection of song and spinning thread.

In Treelight, he and Artanis had walked the beaches of Elendë, the white sand soft beneath bare toes as she splashed in the shallows and demanded he name every sea star. Upon the ragged new shores of this eastern land, they wore stout boots, for they were all torn rock and silt, and the waters colder than the Bay of Eldamar. And Artanis was Galadriel now, and if her name was softer, it was all of her that was.

Irissë looked pained. “I’ve bruised myself. On – oh Eru, a bust of Uncle Fëanáro. Talk about a mood killer…” 

“This isn’t working,” said Elenwë. “We need to go somewhere else or I’ll have nightmares for the rest of my life about your entire extended family watching us while we – ” 

“Agreed,” said Irissë, looking rather ill.

The story of Ilmarë and Thuringwethil, from the beginning to the beginning, again.

They make mountains upon the beach from sand and pebbles, because all Eärendil’s memories are of cold and pale walls of stone and walking for ever and ever.

When Elwing thinks of home it is dark forests and damp loam beneath her feet and running and stopping and hiding and running again, like rabbits.

From a few hundred feet up, the swan ships could be seen to hesitate.

Nerdanel, early in the Second Age, ponders the wisdom of her choices.

After the Five Armies, Tauriel travels East.

In which cats may or may not be a euphemism.

Prompt fic: "Lalwen gives Beruthiel a calico cat, Beruthiel is annoyed because it throws off her color scheme but also Lalwen is a hottie, confusion ensues."

It is renowned among both the Teleri and the Noldor, though perhaps for different reasons among each, that Eärwen Swan-Maiden of Alqualondë was married to Arafinwë of the Noldor in a dress broidered with one thousand pearls, and more draped around her neck and woven through her hair like sea spray.