A Sense of History: Straight Road
The next in a series of articles about ships passing to and from the West, Simon uses "The Fall of Númenor" to attempt to arrive at Tolkien's reading of the exordium to "Beowulf."
Maglor responds to the news of Maedhros' capture.
Glorfindel dances in memory of Elenwë at Tarnin Austa.
Maedhros departs for the parley with Morgoth.
Fingon and Turgon negotiate brotherhood and pain.
Beleg and Túrin's first meeting in the woods of Doriath.
Newlywed Beleg contemplates the changes in his life.
Pengolodh and Erestor negotiate truth and a relationship after they both Sail to Valinor.
Elves were not infrequent visitors; just a few weeks before Elanor had entertained Legolas and one of his sisters, and occasionally some of the Wandering Companies stopped for a chat on an evening. But usually they came around twilight, and almost never did one come that Elanor had never met before.
A wandering Elf comes to the Shire to see the Mallorn Tree, and is invited to dinner with the Gardner family.
Elrond loved most the scene painted behind their mother’s seat, a green forest glade decked with hemlock umbels and delicate niphredil, and Lúthien dancing in the center, her skirts blue as the morning sky and her hair like a dark shadow swirling around her as she spun, hands uplifted.
Gildor returns to Nargothrond for the last time.
Beleg teaches Daeron to make his own instrument. Later, Daeron makes is own improvements.
The weavers workshops in Tirion are merry places, filled with Treelight spilling through wide open windows, and with laughter drifting over the steady clack of the looms like a melody over a steady beat.
A moment in the forges between Melian and Mablung, before he leaves to join the Union of Maedhros.
Ficlets exploring the brotherly bond and dynamics of Finrod and Aegnor, and the beginnings of the lifelong friendship of Aegnor and Fingon.
Fingon y Fingolfin tienen una conversación a las vísperas de la Batalla de la Llama Súbita.
What the title says.
Poem in response to Rhapsody's excellent stories about Gilraen.
One hungry year after the first fleet of Edain landed on Númenor's shores, still wet with seawater, ships arrive in Rómenna from the west.
A brief interlude in the life of a fox with a job to do.
Prompt from @melestasflight: Idril and "shadows of things that were yet to be"
Playing in Gondolin on the feast of Tarnin Austa (no, not that last Tarnin Austa), Salgant remembers a long-ago music lesson in Valinor.
The Silmaril falls slowly, so slowly, as if taking its time to caress the weightlessness of Ulmo’s waters. Does it seek relief also, Maglor wonders, to be free at last of all the hands that lusted after its blessed shine?
Maglor casts his Silmaril into the Sea.
[Also available as a podfic, recorded by Anerea]
In the early hours the half-built towers of Barad Eithel looked more like ruins than like the start of something new, ghostly in the mists that clung to the mountains and hovered in the hollows and valleys of Hithlum even under the noonday sun
Two snapshots. Osse and Uinen under the sea.