A collection of flashfic, drabbles, and snippets.

Ecthelion had not shared Glorfindel's uncertainty, then—but it does not seem unreasonable now, nor so difficult to understand.

Ecthelion, Glorfindel, and post-Nirnaeth doubt.

If she's being honest, she's not yet quite sure why she's still a bit surprised that Caranthir has agreed to be here with her, just this once.

Caranthir, Haleth, and an early summer celebration.

It happens - as always - with no semblance of warning. The ice groans, then shifts, and a channel of dark, swiftly-churning water cleaves open beneath their feet.

Maedhros closes the shutters, one by one. "You're late," he says, voice low but not unkind.

Maedhros comes to Barad Eithel after the Dagor Bragollach and the fall of Fingolfin.

When Finrod rides into the valley of Imladris just after sunrise, half-shrouded in a frosty late-autumn mist, Maglor is certain he's gone mad at last.

A short visit in the gardens.

Hope gives way to truth.

At the Mereth Aderthad, Finrod and Maglor meet for a long-overdue discussion.

Glorfindel is still looking eastward.

Sparring (and more) under stars.