Fanworks Tagged with Fëanor

Let Him Find Honey by StarSpray

Grief awaits you outside these halls, Fëanáro, Nienna told him, her voice like the gentlest fall of rain upon spring leaves.

Grief haunts me inside them, Fëanor replied.

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a hunger still unraveling like silk by atlantablack

Fingolfin does not look up from his book when he hears footsteps approaching and pays no attention to Fëanor walking into the room. What he emphatically does pay attention to is Fëanor going to his knees in front of the chair he is sprawled sideways across and burying his face against Fingolfin’s stomach, both of his hands clenching tight around Fingolfin’s shirt. He blinks down at Fëanor’s head in confusion and runs a hand over his head, dragging his fingers through Fëanor’s hair. “Náro?” he asks quietly. “Has something happened?”

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Seasonal Deliverance by Iced Latte

A poem for the first born sons in the House of Finwe, each one attributed a season - Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring.

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Child of the Woods by Aprilertuile

story for art 68 TRSB 2024 - In every wood in every spring there's a different green by FakeCirilla9

The 'wilds' of Valinor seen through the eyes of Tyelkormo and his family: from Tyelkormo's birth during a long journey, to the introduction of little Telperinquar to the natural wildlife of Valinor.

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An interesting argument by Aprilertuile

This is a story for art 87 - Aromantic and asexual pride by daughterofshadows for Scribbles and Drabbles 2024

Upon his return from his most recent hunt with Oromë’s people, Tyelkormo saw a servant of the house come to him in a hurry.
“Prince Tyelkormo, your father wishes to speak to you at the earliest possibility.”
Tyelkormo snorted at that, faintly amused. His father certainly didn’t word it this way.

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evidence of a love that transcends hunger by atlantablack

Fëanor does not even get a chance to finish being annoying before Fingolfin’s eyes flash with something far too dark to be only fury and his hand snaps out to grab a handful of Fëanor’s hair. He wrenches Fëanor’s head back in a move that is so surprisingly painful it throws him off balance. In the same moment he kicks Fëanor’s feet out from under him and slams him to his knees. He forgets sometimes he thinks, feeling a bit dazed, that Fingolfin had not only fought Morgoth, but lasted an impressive amount of time against him.

Fingolfin pulls his head back until they lock eyes, says, “Why must you be so—” his voice cracks, anger seeping out of every fracture line cracking through his body. He studies the ice in Fingolfin’s eyes and thinks, we never talked about the boats. Not in truth.

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I made loving you a blood sport by atlantablack

In which Fëanor & Fingolfin are re-embodied in 4th age Aman, are nowhere near as healed as everyone believes them to be, and decide to pretend that sleeping together will fix their relationship instead of causing more problems.

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this is the last dream i ever want to have by atlantablack

Fingolfin would like to say that it was an accident. And perhaps if it had started and ended with a kiss he could have lied to himself and said that. As it is, it’s rather hard to say it was an accident when it has gone well past a kiss.

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Moments by StarSpray

Ficlets written for Feanorian Week 2025

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hold onto me / i'm a little unsteady by atlantablack

The whispers that circulate through Tirion afterwards, throughout all of Aman, will be cruel. She had gotten overconfident, they say, she should have known that Finwë’s line was cursed. She should have been content with three children! The whispers never stop circulating but everyone learns very quickly that no matter how Prince Fëanáro had felt about Queen Indis to say such a thing within earshot of him was to earn his everlasting ire.

It goes like this —

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High in the Clean Blue Air by StarSpray

They passed out of Lhûn and the wider coastline of Middle-earth opened up before his eyes. He had wandered those shores for centuries, and even now he felt the pull of that same wanderlust, and knew he would miss them for the rest of his life. Their wildness, the untamed waves, the rocky shores and the cliffs and the sandy beaches. The gulls, and the dunes, and the tide pools with their ever-changing denizens. Someone began to sing a song of farewell, and other voices took it up. He did not join them.

Maglor keeps a promise, and comes to Valinor, only to find the ghosts he thought he'd left behind are alive and waiting for him.

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let's jump ahead to the moment of epiphany by atlantablack

But Fëanor was not held guiltless, for he it was that had broken the peace of Valinor and drawn his sword upon his kinsman; and Mandos said to him: “Thou speakest of thraldom. If thraldom it be, thou canst not escape it; for Manwë is King of Arda, and not of Aman only. And this deed was unlawful, whether in Aman or not in Aman. Therefore this doom is now made: for twelve years thou shalt leave Tirion where this threat was uttered. In that time take counsel with thyself, and remember who and what thou art. But after that time this matter shall be set in peace and held redressed, if others will release thee.”

“Well that’s rather stupid,” Fingolfin says.

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you're in the wind, i'm in the water by atlantablack

Fingolfin feels like part of him is still stuck in Beleriand, blood on his teeth and an all-consuming anger splintering out of control. Like he'll blink and once again see Morgoth's foot coming down. He wants. What does he want? He does not wish to be dead. He is, he supposes, grateful for this chance to fix things as much as they can be fixed. But he wants.

He wants for Fëanor to know him. Wants to work through all the ugly words and acts of violence that had divided them and come out the other side better for it. He cannot throw all the scathing anger in his chest at a brother who does not understand. Cannot scream at this Fëanor for burning the boats, for leaving them to the ice, for Elenwë, for Arakáno, for the countless others who had followed him and paid for it. And so what is he meant to do with the anger? He cannot swallow it all down forever and also salvage his relationship with Fëanor in this new song.

He wants, he thinks, watching a potter unmake a bowl that was marred, to un-sing himself as well.

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meanwhile the world goes on by StarSpray

Following Maglor as he suffers through captivity in Dol Guldur, and his journey to healing afterward.

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Becoming (Maedhros & Maglor Week 2025) by 0ur_Ouroboros

Drabbles created (and now polished) from February 15, 2025 Maedhros & Maglor week-themed Instadrabbling session)

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there are limits to love by atlantablack

Following Maedhros averting the burning of the ships, Fingon worries, Maedhros finds a new reason to live, and Fëanor begins to wonder if he has made some mistakes. And underneath it all is enough love that they're all hoping, maybe just this once, it won't end in tragedy.

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(please) change the prophecy by atlantablack

“No,” he says once more, cutting his father off. The pressure in his chest hurts. He wanted to rest but instead there’s a great, spiked ball of fury dragging itself up his throat. “If you burn those boats I will walk out there and burn with them. I’ll swear it to Eru if you don’t believe me. Damn myself to the darkness twice.” He had intended to burn anyways, may as well go out the way he’d meant to, let his death mean something this time. Let it be for something that matters.

There must be something truly terrible on his face because his father visibly falters.

“You would not,” his father says but his voice wavers slightly.

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