New and Updated Fiction

Even the greatest artists struggle with petty jealousy. Fortunately, they have siblings capable of snapping them out of it. 

“No song or poem could ever capture the beauty of that dance as you have.”

“And that was only a memory,” Daeron said. “There is no music that could bring her back, not even mine.”

Daeron sails to Eressëa and meets Pengolodh.

Eöl is ill-at-ease after an encounter with the first Elf to elude his piercing mind. That there is much to link him and Curufin, including their shared craft, a friendship with the Dwarves, and the fact he carries a knife made of Eöl's metal, only unsettles - and allures - him all the more.

As Lúthien prepares to make her escape from Hírilorn, Daeron visits her for the last time.

Amrod makes a gift for Amras. The story of how it is passed down through the ages, in snippets.

Their chieftain, Haleth, is staying with me in Helevorn with a few of her guards (also women). I am not sure what to make of her.

Maglor has some advice for Caranthir on relations with the Haladin.

Mablung visits Beleg on the northern marches to spend some time alone together before the summer festival.

“Well,” Maglor said, kneeling beside him and propping himself up with one arm between Daeron’s thighs, “you’re still very much failing to ward me off with your dark elf magic.”

Maglor has a challenge for Daeron.

After all that has befallen and come between them, Daeron and Maglor manage to forget everything for one blissful night and find what they have lost in each other.

The hot, dry stones darken as rivulets of water fall down from her hair. Crouching beside the river, she twists and wrings it with strong hands, tossing it over the opposite shoulder and spreading her lips into a broad smile when she catches my eyes.

Fëanor and Nerdanel, by a river, when everything was still wonderful.

None came there–but the breath that filled the pipes wailing through the air was as real as his own, which he now inhaled in shallow gasps.

Lómion is drawn by a haunting music in the depths of Nan Elmoth.

Lindir is too good at music to be a nobody and young Arwen has a confused Lúthien complex. Crackship treated seriously.

Finrod's first kiss and what Amarië thinks about it.

A short crime-story that is a direct continuation of a Drabble written for B2MEM (Match).

Detective Aredhel and her second-in-command Haleth find the burned corpse of a boy. They now have to investigate men they had thought firmly and safely relegated to the past. 

Can they be guilty of a crime so heinous? Why won't anybody in that dark, foreboding house cooperate when the women clearly toil to save their reputations and lives?

Celebrimbor and Annatar are ready to eject Galadriel from their city. But they get distracted, and Galadriel takes advantage.

Celebrían takes a no-nonsense approach when she learns of the danger Celebrimbor is in. Under her leadership - and brooking no opposition, especially not from Celebrimbor himself - she forms an alliance of elves, dwarves, and men to confront Sauron before he reaches Ost-in-Edhil.

Irissë crosses the ice, loses a sister and a brother, and battles her way towards a reunion with the cousin who deserted her.

Angband is not what Maedhros expected.

In which Mairon uses charm to get what he wants, Maedhros learns a great deal about the Enemy, Melkor eventually loses his patience, and Fingon is vailant.

(mostly featuring Maedhros & Sauron, but with Melkor/Mairon and Maedhros/Fingon as well)

Ficlets exploring the brotherly bond and dynamics of Finrod and Aegnor, and the beginnings of the lifelong friendship of Aegnor and Fingon.

Turin, just after killing Beleg, sinks into despair.

Two artifacts from the Minas Tirith Museum of Art's Beleriandic collection.

A Gondorian academic in the Fourth Age explores the development of a solar calendar system among the Noldor in Beleriand.

And it came to pass, while the wood of Nimloth burned, that Tar-Míriel – who had ever loved the night-blossoming Tree – slipped from the palace, and came in secret to the westward shore.

Prompt from @melestasflight: Idril and "shadows of things that were yet to be"

As the bells began to ring alarms at another five black-sailed Corsair ships hoving into view, Ulloth’s mind and pen alighted upon the pelargoloth, her namesake, the common and beloved flower of the city’s balconies and courtyards, just opening its scarlet petals with the dawn of the the Second Siege of Pelargir.