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.
Ilmarë comes upon an old friend, and finds that much has changed.
Written for Isilloth for silmladylove's Femslash Drabbletag challenge on Tumblr.
Recueil de mini-épisodes et drabbles dans un univers alternatif moderne de la fanfiction Maudits Silmarils. Nouveaux chapitres.
Based on the following prompt: Tar-Telperiën falls in love with an Elven ambassador from Lindon
There are flowers everywhere and Nienor isn't quite sure why.
Eönwë and Glorfindel share an intimate moment after their victory in the War of Wrath when a young herald interrupts them.
(this story includes a commissioned art made by the wonderful tosquinha)
Finduilas makes a decison that will alter certain paths, including Nienor's.
(Written for Amy Fortuna for Fandom Stocking 2015)
Always, always, Mithrellas hears the sea: Nimrodel, Nimrodel.
(Written for Elleth for Fandom Stocking 2015)
In the chaos that follows the Oath, Elemmírë says farewell to her lover.
(Written for Scribe_of_Mirrormere for Fandom Stocking 2015)
Just before the Union of Maedhros, Araloth overhears one conversation, and remembers several others.
(Written for Himring for Fandom Stocking 2015)
À Gondolin, pendant que ses chevaliers parcourent le monde, Turgon déprime... Une parodie crack du Silmarillion façon Kaamelott et Sacré Graal. Suite du livre I. Nouveau chapitre : L'absence.
Niënor takes Finduilas into the gardens of Nargothrond - and it turns out far better than either of them imagined.
Afrer Alqualondë, Aredhel grieves for her lover.
When Erestor was young, his father had shown him their family’s heirloom: a primitive map of Cuiviénen and the inland sea scratched out on deer hide in ink made from soot and oak galls, the work of his father’s father. To the east of the Orocarni was written in the ancient cirth, Here be Monsters; a warning that what lay beyond was unknown, and best left unexamined. Erestor knew, as his grandsire had known, that some things were best left unexplored. Yet like his grandsire, he pressed on in spite of this knowledge.
Snippets from the tale of Galadriel and Andreth, and a love never meant to be.
Written for as a treat for Elleth for the 2015 LotR Secret Santa exchange.
A queen (and general) finds her way into the Forest, again, and the past finds its way to her.
Written as a treat for Amy Fortuna and Elleth for the 2015 LotR Secret Santa exchange.
Except not really. Two moments from the lives of Erendis and Ancalimë.
Written as a treat for Tallulah for the 2015 LotR Secret Santa exchange.
A ball in which no-one dances, and the morning after. (Featuring angst, politics, conversations, foreshadowing, and a guest appearance by doors. Yes, actual doorways. Also some Maedhros/Fingon.)
Written for Platinum_and_Diamonds for the 2015 LotR Secret Santa exchange.
The queen of Arthedain is rescued by a stranger. Random conversation ensues. (AKA there isn't much plot the backstory makes up for it?)
This is the last of my B2MeM stories from last year.
Finrod thinks it's a wise idea to throw a masquerade ball. Orodreth thinks it is wise to change his looks completely. Finrod thinks it is wise to get drunk and flirt shamelessly in public with the one he thinks is Curufin. Orodreth cannot resist his brother's charms...
[written for the following prompt] - FinrodxOrodreth with mistaken identities AND Nauglamir-kink (it is not on the list but I need it in my life!!)
For many years Elrond has already desired Maglor, and for nearly as long he thinks he runs after unrequited feelings – until one night in winter he finds out that he is gravely mistaken.
[warning for pseudo-incest]
On the plains of Northern Rhûn in the early Years of the Sun, a young woman of the Kinn-lai goes on a perilous journey to rescue her missing sister.
Sometimes Aerin comes to Morwen for comfort.
The Sentiment of Steel, or "Sentiment du Fer": a fencer’s ability to use his sword to feel and manipulate the opponent’s sword. A concept with which Glorfindel and Ecthelion are far too familiar.
“Everyone knows the heart of Ecthelion is as cold as ice. Only the quest for vengeance heats his blood.” Glorfindel’s words were delivered as a jest, but he knew as soon as he heard them ringing from his mouth that he had failed to disguise the bitterness that colored them.