New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
A collection of NSFW ficlets for the "Keep It Clean" bingo card of the 2024 Potluck Bingo.
A chance find while tidying up Indis' rooms leads to revelations no one was expecting.
After hearing the Doom of Mandos, Arafinwë returns to Valinor where the remaining Noldor need a new ruler. It appears that the Valar have already made their choice.
A poem Finarfin writes about Eärwen after a walk on the beach together.
In Tol Eressëa, Celebrían and Galadriel talk about Arwen. Written for the "It Comes in Threes" challenge, inspired by Maiden, Mother and Crone.
Anaire stayed behind.
A collection of my portraits of various elves and the headcanons that lead to their depictions
A portrait of Eärwen, created for Middle-earth is Multitudes
Do wars start with the first fired arrow and end with the last? Or maybe they start already with the realization that they need to be fought? And never truly end, as long as the memory of them haunts those who took part? Arafinwë’s story of the War of Wrath. Previously posted on other sites.
Upon his return from Númenor, Eönwë has memories to face, conversations to have, and old companions to meet.
The tide played around the horizon, only beginning to consider its daily sweep up the beach to the toes of Alqualondë. Eärwen waved to the far-off breakers and slid down to the wet sand, then turned and lifted Anaïre down. Anaïre pecked her on the cheek in thanks, and they started up the beach to the strand and the woman lying there sobbing for breath.
She did look young, close-up. That is, she looked like an Elf who had just reached full maturity, except where she did not. Around the eyes she bore little crinkles like the seafarers did, on her heaving belly the lightning-marks of pregnancy, and two fascinating rivers of silver ran into the light-gulping blackness of her hair from the temples. And, of course, there were the feathers
That it was returned, he did not question. He could look back now and see everything arranged in its full image, he could trace the careful dance they both wound through this past year; every word, every silence, every touch ringing through with that steady truth. How had he been so blind?
Springtime has come to Estolad. Finrod is struck with a realization he has been avoiding and faces the decisions that lie in its wake.
“Let us not perish here in the long darkness,” Balan said softly, crossing back to take one of the waiting wreaths and set it upon his own brow, “these creatures you chose to form. Remember us, here in our frailty.”
It is Yuletide. The Atani and Finrod celebrate throughout the night as they stay awake to greet the dawn after the Longest Night. Balan's people settle into Estolad, Atani traditions abound, and Finrod faces some memories.
Nerdanel & Eärwen have tea, talk, and find peace in each other's company.
Anaire and Earwen discuss the upcoming births of their children on a mild summer afternoon.
Finarfin just thought the dragon egg looked neat, so he brought it home.
Then it hatched.
The sundering of the Noldor was bound to leave scars.
A Day on the Water
The home of my insta-drabbling pieces!
(and the odd drabble of undetermined origin)
Earendil comes home to Elwing's Tower in Aewellond (the Bird-haven) to rest from his labors, and finds her just beginning hers. She's been...nesting in his absence.
He hadn't counted on Elwing's bird-skinchanging affecting her like this...
In Fifth Age Tirion, Caranthir has been reembodied into a changed world: his uncle has unkinged himself and turned Tirion into a republic, Elves live in suburbs and seek psychotherapy, and the Noldor born after his exile have invented all kinds of wondrous things. One day, Caranthir receives a letter that he is being entrusted to mentor his newly reembodied cousin Orodreth. They must not only resolve their old enmity but achieve a tenuous friendship--maybe even more?--as both seek the peace and acceptance they never found in their prior lives. Written for TRSB 2019, based on the artwork by NelyafinweFeanorion.
Eärwen as a young maiden of the Swan-haven, surrounded and supported by family, and the intersection of song and spinning thread.
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.
Those left behind do not sit idle. Five drabbles.