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.
Dior did not see the arrow until it pierced his own flesh, a hard thrust of a point entering his back and blossoming out of his heart. The pain of the wound, and the feeling of his body in uncertain panic around it, was almost secondary to his curiosity.
Now what?
Dior felt strangely detached, as if he had stepped out of his body. He watched himself fall over the body of the Golodh he’d slain. Dior had worn no helm nor armor that day – and he saw his hair fan out to cover them both. They died together in the dark cloak of it.
Dior’s eyes closed, and all was dark.
~
And then Dior opened his eyes.
A short comic for the Sept-Oct 2024 Idiomatic challenge. The stifling environment of Eöl’s “dim halls, silent and secret” contrasts with young Maeglin’s idealized vision of Gondolin as a divine, sunlit paradise, home to the godlike Noldor.
Idril disagrees with the king’s decision to execute Eol. Written for the SWG challenge Kings & Queens.
As the refugees regroup in the first aftermath of the Fall of Gondolin, one loremaster survives and tries to understand.
"Oh no, I just had a horrible thought. Does the new city have a name yet? And is it ‘New Vinyamar’?”
A decades-long saga about the naming of the hidden city of Gondolin.
A horrid cacophony of cries erupts ahead of them, as orcs appear—up the cliff on hidden ledges, on the path, with bows and swords. And behind them rises a figure of darkness and flame. The heat rolls down the path over them, bringing the smell of burning flesh and bitter fear with it. Someone screams.
Fics written for the "Tengwar" challenge.
Idril and Meleth (my OC) welcome Finduilas, Niënor, and other refugees into Havens after the Fall of Doriath, hoping they can start anew there. Finduilas's daughter is distraught about the situation. Also, how did Finduilas and Niënor make it to the Havens after the Fall of Doriath?
In Valinor and homesick for Imladris, Celebrían decides to build a new one.
Voronwe drowns. And drowns. And drowns.
For the Instadrabble prompt: Murphy’s law kicks in (anything that can go wrong will).
What was Tuor's first week like in Gondolin?
An exploration of the various interpretations of the fall of the ancient Elven stronghold of Gondolin as told through popular culture.
KEY WORDS: Gondolin, Hidden City, Turgon, Idril, Tuor, Maeglin, First Age, Morgoth, Earendil, siege, theater, literature, radio, cinema, pop culture
A conversation between Tuor and Idril concerning their plans for escape from Gondolin.
Fingon comes to Nevrast and finds it empty.
Aredhel has returned to Gondolin, but she desires more than to be bound to a place and a person again.
“Oh,” Elwing said faintly. She felt the need to sit down, but locked her knees against it. “Then—have they been released from Mandos, my lord? I had not heard that you came in person to deliver such news.”
“They have not, not yet,” said Námo, and to Elwing’s surprise his mouth softened into a small smile, there and gone again in the blink of an eye. “Your brothers are still very young; Mandos is not a place for children to grow. They are ready to return to the world, but unlike most others who pass through my halls they cannot make the journey across Valinor alone. Come to the gates of my halls with all swiftness, and you will find your brothers there.” He inclined his head, and was gone.
Pixel-style artwork of Tuor's journey.
In Nevrast, Idril and her aunt Aredhel explore a reported natural phenomenon at Lake Linaewen together.
The Grinding Ice proves a deadly trap for Elenwë and her daughter. Turukáno is willing to give his own life to save that of his wife and child, and almost succeeds.
‘And that is the device of the house of Bëor,’ Elwing adds. ‘My house.’
‘Mine too,’ Tuor says. ‘In part.’
-
Tuor, a young Elwing, and the remnants of the Edain in the havens of Sirion.
When Tuor can't find Eärendil, he sends for Maeglin to help.
Glorfindel dances in memory of Elenwë at Tarnin Austa.
Prompt from @melestasflight: Idril and "shadows of things that were yet to be"
“You were looking for me?” She arched an eyebrow as she leant back against him, enjoying the solid warmth of his chest.
“I always am.” Tuor’s chuckle reverberated through his chest and through her.
Idril sighed.
-
Tuor makes sure Idril relaxes.
Illustration to The House of Fëanor by Deborah Judge, inspired by The Silmarillion.