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.
A familiar face finds Maglor on the beach and he cannot decide if this is a blessing or a torment.
Mother, let me live to see the day go by
Save me from myself, for I will sacrifice
Anything and Everything, to feel Him one more time
--Sacrifice, Aleah.
Turgon loves Elenwë. Finrod loves Turgon. Elenwë is pushed to the brink by the strain of the Helcaraxë. There are strange things done in the land of no sun by the Elves with hair of gold… A love story with a ghostly twist.
It's supposed to be impossible for the Ainur to get sick, but Mairon has always been exceptional.
Mairon is seduced during the Years of the Lamps.
Maedhros cuts his hair off for the first time after Losgar, and never quite shakes the habit.
Or: Five hundred years of haircuts, give or take.
Fingon tries to keep a promise made long ago.
During the siege of the Barad-dûr, Gil-galad struggles with the burden of leadership and the grim reality of war. Elrond helps.
Mairon & Melkor get married and have an overall fluffy time.
Featuring Wedding Fluff & Wedding Night Shenanigans.
The Feanorians leave blood and ash in their wake, and Thranduil searches for Elrond and Elros in the wreckage of the Havens.
The Third Kinslaying: the calm before the storm and the aftereffects.
A Hobbit lass off on an adventure in the East stumbles across a captive Maglor. Further adventures ensue.
Maedhros never stopped thinking of little cousin Finrod as the Elfling who followed him around pulling at his robes and playing games. Finrod was happy to keep it that way, but Maedhros was bound to find out about the parties someday.
Finrod was like another little brother to him.
The sundering of the Noldor was bound to leave scars.
Turgon watches Gondolin burn. Someone watches Turgon.
After his rebirth Nolofinwe knows he can't lie to Anaire any longer, even if the chance of Maedhros to ever be reborn is slim.
After stepping into a chasm filled with fire, Maedhros finds himself in an eerily familiar house.
They are alike in warform. Unlike the Balrogs, the orcs did not get to pick their shape.
Peony Took intends to outdo her cousin Bilbo in her travels, and heads to Rhûn. There she finds the growing presence of servants of Mordor, but also Elves--and one in particular in dire need of rescue.
He heard the voice again, and turned towards it, westward, but as he did he saw the girl again, with her green dress and her yellow hair. She ran up to him on light feet, leaving no trace behind on the snow. “Are you leaving?” she cried. “Please don’t leave!”
“But I am called,” said Elurín. “Don’t you hear?”
“Yes. He calls me, too, but I cannot go!” She cried, and it was the sound on the wind and in the river. “I am afraid.”
In the midst of the War of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men, ticking down to the end of the Second Age, there are frequently lulls between the action-packed moments. War is a lot of waiting, as one young Sindarin lieutenant - who happens to be Greenwood's crown prince - learns to his dismay.
Still, in such quiet moments are friendships fostered. Prince Elendur Isildurchil, the very first of Isildur's Heirs, has often invited Greenwood's prince to spend time in his tent and learn the wisdom of Men.
Sometimes Thranduil learns lessons the barely more than elfling is ill prepared for...and Elendur's not much more prepared for moments like these.
Let's hope Lord Elrond and their edair never find out...
Glorfindel gets a booty call from Ingwë.
for the "Kings and Kink" challenge. NSFW!
"“To the true votaries of these love orgies grossness of language is a stimulant to passion. Fuck-frig — bugger — cunt — prick — ballocks — bubbles — arsehole — are all sacred words only to be pronounced when in the exercise of love's mysteries. At all other times a guarded decency of word, act, and gesture is imperative, as enhancing the delight of an unbridled vocabulary in the voluptuary of raging lust. I shall from time to time inculcate sage precepts on this point — enough for the present. Let us now indulge in mutual embraces.”
~From The Romance of Lust, Vol. 3"
A selection of correspondence to, from, and within the fortress of Himring in the 62nd year of the Sun,
Compiled and edited with Westron commentary by Hithaeril of Dol Amroth, Second Assistant Archivist of the Royal Gondorian Archives, in the 196th year of the Fourth Age,
Translated into English by Ermingarden and illustrated by Frog_In_A_Pond in the 2,021st year of the Common Era.
Lalwen has dug too many graves. After the attack on the Havens of Sirion, she digs another.