New Challenge: Bollywood
This month's challenge offers songs, films, and tropes from Bollywood, the world's largest film industry based out of India, as prompts for fanworks.
"Heat crawled over the side of Celegorm’s body where Finrod’s shoulder brushed it, but he smirked. He had no wish to wrest the crown of Nargothrond from his cousin, not yet. Finrod was a competent leader, and beloved. Better to leave the Kingdom in his hands — and for Celegorm to hold Finrod in his."
Orodreth finds comfort and renewal in the arms of Adanedhel.
Eärendil returns to Sirion after his latest sea voyage, and Elwing's anxieties about her pregnancy are soothed in the loving arms of her husband.
It is the night of Tirion's masked ball. Fëanáro is after Artanis' hair, Artanis is after a distraction, Macalaurë is deploying all his wiles, and Findaráto is just trying to have a nice time.
Maedhros gets a reward for a job well done.
Andreth should hate him, and yet they end up in each other's arms once again.
Thuringwethil expected she had signed her doom when she let the princess of Doriath go free. But she may have saved herself in the process.
Maglor receives treatment for his shortcomings.
Amarie would appreciate Finrod being less of a distraction. At least he's willing to help fix the problem he caused.
Anaire forgives Fingolfin in pieces.
Celegorm loves. Aredhel does, too - but not quite.
A young Númenorean has a close encounter with a deity of his mother's people.
Moodboard for TRSB 2023, wherein I request Maglor to be tortured. The collage is not graphic, but does contain images of torture implements or things that can be used as such.
He remembered how they had once desired glory. How they had once wanted to take part in great deeds. And how that battle had ended in nothing but betrayal and bloodshed. No, Mablung did not wish to be a warrior any longer – he longed for his books and journals, for the comfort of song and the company of friends.
Beleg exhaled deeply. “We will not be soldiers again; not captains, not lords, only Beleg and Mablung.”
-
Beleg and Mablung survived the First Age. In search of a better future, they set off on an exploration of Eriador, but peace is not always easy to find.
Inspired by wonderful art from @lycheesodas
It's a beautiful evening in Eregion, and Celebrimbor has an even lovelier sight before him.
-
For Day 3 of Silvergifting Week 2023 (and a blatant misuse of the prompt...)
Tar-Miriel, last queen of Numenor, reigns in name only. Isolated and hopeless, she seeks little more than survival. As the doom of Numenor draws near, she finds herself facing unexpected temptations and strange alliances.
Written for TRSB summer 2023 for art by elvencloud_a_plotting
Fëanor takes a momentary interest in a youthful Fingolfin.
“It's not your fault,” whispers a voice very like Tyelpë’s — but Tyelpë isn’t here. There is no succor left for Mairon; no refuge in this land of Men permitted only to stand at the gates of the world and gaze in longing toward its glory.
In Númenor, Mairon longs for what he has lost. Tyelpë comes to find him.
In Numenor, Mairon contemplates a sacrifice.
A short crime-story that is a direct continuation of a Drabble written for B2MEM (Match).
Detective Aredhel and her second-in-command Haleth find the burned corpse of a boy. They now have to investigate men they had thought firmly and safely relegated to the past.
Can they be guilty of a crime so heinous? Why won't anybody in that dark, foreboding house cooperate when the women clearly toil to save their reputations and lives?
Celebrimbor and Annatar are ready to eject Galadriel from their city. But they get distracted, and Galadriel takes advantage.
Angband is not what Maedhros expected.
In which Mairon uses charm to get what he wants, Maedhros learns a great deal about the Enemy, Melkor eventually loses his patience, and Fingon is vailant.
(mostly featuring Maedhros & Sauron, but with Melkor/Mairon and Maedhros/Fingon as well)
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
“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.
For the first time since Finrod’s rebirth in Aman, he and Amarie are intimate.