New and Updated Writing

Lalwen receives a gift, and takes heart.

Níniel meets a wraith at night. Written for the Hearts in Council fic fest.

Laiglas stared at him, his mouth hanging open. “I beg your pardon?”, he stammered and blushed when some things shot through his head, he sometimes dreamed of. Melkor and Mo in one bed with him... But: “Mablung... I’m sorry, but... you are my friend, I love you, but I don’t think of you like that.” Mablung laughed cheerfully. “You don’t have to be sorry for that, I feel the same about you. But I still think the four of us could have fun.”

Melkor and Mablung have a proposal for their friends.

Sinthoras just said it in jest, but Galathil thinks it might be the thing to make him feel save enough to try sex again.

After moving into their new house, Melkor goes to the market to buy food. He finds something he knows Mablung will like.

Mablung opened his eyes with a happy sigh as he was kissed awake.
“Good morning, love”, Melkor smiled down at him. “And happy birthday.”

Mablung wakes to a tasty birthday present by Melkor.

After the War of Wrath, Sinthoras hears that his daughter came to Aman and visits her in Tirion. There's someone in her house, he didn't expect.

This was what he enjoyed the most about being allowed to sleep in his Master’s bed most of the time now. Not the soft mattress and the warm blankets, though that was comfortable. No, it was the fact that this way he was sometimes woken by his Master’s gentle touches.

It's Mablung's birthday again, though he remembers it only after a while.

‘Alas! there are some wounds that cannot be wholly cured,’ said Gandalf.

‘I fear it may be so with mine,’ said Frodo. ‘There is no real going back. Though I may come to the Shire, it will not seem the same; for I shall not be the same. I am wounded with knife, sting, and tooth, and a long burden. Where shall I find rest?’

Gandalf did not answer.
- The Return of the King, “Homeward Bound”

The letters exchanged between Maedhros Fëanorion and Elwing Dioriel, c. FA 534-537.

Sometimes you try a new look and suddenly your whole family becomes a panel of fashion critics. Maglor hates it here.

In which Maedhros dies and has some explaining to do to his family.

Melkor is in a rare gentle mood and grants his slave a wish.

Melkor is angry and Mablung knows it is going to be a hard night. But if his pain is what his Master needs to feel better, he'll bear it for him.

Celebrimbor wants to show Maeglin how beautiful he is. Maeglin has a hard time believing it.

Something out near the entrance to the bay caught his eye. It was a small, dark shape on the water, slowly growing larger. As it passed into Eldamar out of Belegaer, Eärendil felt his breath catch. “Elwing,” he said.
“I see it.” She leaned farther out of the window, as though those few inches might grant her a better look. She had one hand raised to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare. “It looks like—”
“Yes, but it can’t be.”

Maedhros and Maglor have stolen the Silmarils and disappeared. Beleriand is sinking. Finarfin, Gil-Galad, and all the people moving east pay a visit to Amon Ereb, assuming that the Sons of Fëanor returned there.

Instead, they find Elrond and Elros.

Maglor is once again skulking around Rivendell to hear news of Elrond, but this time the guards catch him and drag him to see his... estranged son? former hostage? Angst ensues.

The queen of Númenor reflects on her past and future with a strange companion.

A little Elf child has her first taste of the horrors that lurk in Beleriand and learns what it is to be Fëanorion.

Mablung leaves Doriath on the eve of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.

Voronwë leads Tuor across Beleriand and into Gondolin, and then faithfully serves and protects him and his family through all that follows. Which is just the natural order of things, isn’t it? All part of Ulmo’s grand plan, nothing much to see here, move along. Right? One day Tuor begins to suspect there might be more to it.

Fingon is out for an adventure and asks Maedhros for an introduction to a certain club. Soon he finds himself participating in an orgy, the plaything of others, and enjoying every moment of it.