Tolkien Meta Week Starts December 8!
Join us December 8-14, here and on Tumblr, as we share our thoughts, musings, rants, and headcanons about all aspects of Tolkien's world.
"At least we have learned that the sons of Fëanor can die too."
Nine POVs on the kinslaying at Doriath.
Snippets of life of a midwinter in Fëanáro and Nerdanel's household in Valinor, during the Age of the Trees.
Prompts will be as follow, taken from the Midwinter Bingo card (board by AdmirableMonster) :
Family ; Carols and Singing ; Death and rebirth ; Candles ; Sledding
Promps taken from the Fluffy Bingo Card (board by DaughterofShadows):
Falling Asleep ; Hot Chocolate
It is Curufin who crafts the three gems. Starting with the one of fire.
Or: Curufin copes with grief in true Noldorin fashion.
This is a collection of true drabbles completed for the 'Four Words' drabble bingo card.
Created for the 'Geography/Maps/Places' prompt on the "Tolkien meta" bingo board, this is a collection of maps marked with the various people groups showing how they arrived and moved about Beleriand. This collection focuses specifically on the time from the arrival of the Teleri, Vanyar, and Noldor before they went to Aman up to the distribution of the various kingdoms after the Flight of the Noldor, when they arrived in Middle-earth and settled there.
Is is too much to ask for a day of peace?
After the disaster in Alqualondë, the house of Fëanor had stolen the ships and left by sea.
A storm was raging, and on a ship with at least one of his siblings, Tyelkormo was taking care of Huan... And thinking.
Fics written for the "Tengwar" challenge.
For the Tengwar prompt challenge.
All 36 prompts plus bonus chapter
Someone is planting bombs in Minas Tirith.
Early in the Forth Age, when King Elessar's life is threatened, it is up to the young prince and an unlikely ally to bring down the threat to the realms of Men.
But in the chaos of a city rocked by violence, Prince Eldarion Telcontar will discover the true meaning of his inheritance.
Ficlets written for Feanorian Week
The dead have no mouths, and cannot scream. That does not stop Curufin from trying as he watches Vairë’s tapestries ravel before his eyes
In Valinor and homesick for Imladris, Celebrían decides to build a new one.
In his brother's final moments, Curufin must play an unexpected role.
The sons of Fëanor find their places. Or lose them.
Celegorm, Curufin, a balcony of Finwë's royal residence, oblique discussions of death before death became more than an abstraction. And a little bit of parkour.
After the Nírnaeth Arnoediad, Celegorm and Curufin occasionally range far from Amon Ereb in an attempt to stem the tide of Morgoth's armies into Beleriand somewhat. This kind of idleness does not become the Oath once the Silmaril has appeared in Doriath again; Celegorm only needs a willing ear.
The academic conversation that stood at the beginning of the end.
Curufin visits his wife in the forge with another creation in mind.
Once per year, on the night of a holiday only she still celebrates, Galadriel lights fourteen candles.
Terentaulë makes her choice; but in the end, they were both fruit of the same tree.
Findekáno’s coronation should have been a grand affair. Moringotto was dead, and the Ñoldor could begin to rebuild and slowly retake the lands the Enemy had destroyed in the battle that they had all thought was the beginning of the end.
But Findekáno’s father had fallen even as he slew the Black Foe. Over four hundred years he had ruled, and Findekáno knew this was quite possibly the worst time for a change in leadership.
He still didn’t know where Turukáno and Írissem were.
He still had not heard from Russandol.
Celegorm took the javelin from the beast, examining it. He ran his finger over the blade, where the poison glistened in the sunlight, then sniffed his finger. His gaze flicked up to Eöl’s. Eöl thought to see anger or triumph flicker in the Elf-lord’s eyes, but they were cold and impassive, and when he spoke, his voice was deadly quiet. “I wonder: Who was this meant for—your wife, or your son?”
Eöl felt the blood drain from his face, and he reached for the hilt of his sword.
Curufin is not the only son of Fëanor Eöl meets upon the plains of Himlad.
Or, Eöl meets Celegorm while pursuing Aredhel and Maeglin, and things go very badly for him.
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?