New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
Lothíriel finds many things in Rohan unsettling, but none so much as her future sister-in-law.
Maedhros. Illustration to "The First Snow", inspired by The Silmarillion.
My Maedhros & Fëanor portraits morphing with "Let the Havens Burn" illustration in motion.
Daeron, Beleg, and Mablung go to the Falas for pearls to take back to Thingol.
My illustrations with a bit of life and music by DTH. English subtitles added for the lyrics in Polish. (More details in description.)
Tar-Míriel, traditional media, A5, 2020.
"The little silver nut [Sam] planted in the Party Field where the tree had once been; and he wondered what would come of it...
"Spring surpassed his wildest hopes...In the Party Field a beautiful young sapling leaped up: it had silver bark and long leaves and burst into golden flowers in April. it was indeed a mallorn, and it was the wonder of the neighborhood. in after years, as it grew in grace and beauty, it was known far and wide and people would come long journeys to see it: the only mallorn west of the Mountains and east of the Sea, and one of the finest in the world."
- The Return of the King, "The Grey Havens"
A riddle-sonnet contemplating the nature of that which, desperate, devours.
Nori's not really a protest sort of person. Dwalin, apparently, is.
As they prepare for a grand celebration, memories of the past return to haunt Gondolin’s royal family.
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@gondolinweek Day 1: Feast - Idril, Eärendil, Turgon
Dwalin has the mountains under her skin.
The light enters the room before Éowyn does, a rolling dry heat with it; just enough warning for Faramir to close one book and open another. She enters hard on its heels. 'Hail, Steward, from the south fair tidings,' she says, pulling off her helm halfway through, so the words are muffled. 'I can’t stay long. I came to give you word of Harad and your brother.' (A Galadriel-accepts-the-ring AU.)
-Arda is filled with "brownies, fays, pixies, leprawns, and what else are they not called, for their number is very great"-
Little Denethor is playing by the river, when he happens to look up into the trees. And the trees look back.
“We can’t all be as pleasant as hobbits,” Dis said. The hobbit in question tossed her head back, black curls bouncing and glinting in the late afternoon light, and laughed.
“You’ve met few hobbits then,” she replied, still smiling. “I’ve often thought we’re the most contentious race in all the lands.”
“You’ve met few dwarves then." Dis was rewarded with more laughter, and then all of a sudden, the hobbit was plopping herself down on the bench beside Dis, fishing out her own pipe.
Dis meets an unexpected companion as she waits in Rivendell.
Nerdanel crafts her first sculpture of strange but beautiful shape.
If I sing now, will you answer me?
Once childhood friends, now king and captain, Finrod and Edrahil mourn for what they lost in each other on the Helcaraxë.
“Under her song the saplings grew and became fair and tall, and came to flower; and thus there awoke in the world the Two Trees of Valinor. Of all things which Yavanna made they have the most renown, and about their fate all the tales of the Elder Days are woven.”
~ The Silmarillion, “Of The Beginning of Days”
A sonnet for Thingol and Melian
Playlist to go with my fic of the same name
Little Luthien has a strange encounter one night.
Amarie and Finrod, from paradise through tragedy to rebirth
The Void welcomes Mairon the Admirable, at the end of all things.
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A little drabble I wrote for @angbangweek Day 4: The Void.
Photograph of a tree in autumn (lightly edited) with two lines of accompanying text.
Originally submitted (without the title) for the Manwe's Mailbag challenge for a postcard prompt.
Embittered by Aldarion's departure on a long overseas journey against her will, Erendis dismisses the pair of wonderful Elven-birds that were given to her by visitors from Tol Eressea during her honeymoon. The birds briefly visit Erendis's parents on their flight back to Tol Eressea, but will not let themselves be touched and afterwards, it seems, they are not seen or heard again in Numenor.
"Sweet fools, fly away!" Erendis said. "This is no place for such joy as yours."
I have written a fix-it for the loss of the Elven-birds, sort of.