He didn't marry Sauron the Deceiver for the peace and quiet. A baby before noon still feels like a step too far.

Ulfang's daughters(in-law) seek aid in the aftermath. Reckoning with their own grief and choices (or lack thereof) they navigate Angband, the nightmare they grew up with, now the only place they can turn for help.

The Halls of Mandos are known to be strange but there's no precendent for running into other people who claim to be you.

Gil-Galad meets some other Gil-Galads and reflects on the essence of Gil-Galadness.

They are alike in warform. Unlike the Balrogs, the orcs did not get to pick their shape.

"Now Celebrimbor was not corrupted in heart or faith, but had accepted Sauron as what he posed to be; and when at length he discovered the existence of the One Ring he revolted against Sauron, and went to Lórinand to take counsel once more with Galadriel. They should have destroyed all the Rings of Power at this time, "but they failed to find the strength.""

They find the strength.

The children of elves die easily, for their souls are thinly bound to their bodies and their fate is to endure but not survive. So when faced with a young hostage he really can't afford to let fade away, Sauron is very careful not to do anything too traumatizing.

(Mostly.)

Luckily Feanor's grandson is an interesting child to babysit.

“You are the forest, Nimrodel. The light that filters through the leaves, the starlight in the pools, the flowers. I look at you and I see the earth, black and red and white. I see the flowers, elanor and niphredil. The strength of stone and the transparent delicacy of the spring tadpoles. I did not think much of being a prince of this place before you taught me how to love it.”

"Cytise knows exactly what the elf is."

Balan-who-will-be-Bëor comes to some conclusions about his new friend after said new friend demonstrates a terrifying knowledge of venomous snakes.

In conclusion, Finarfin was a reptile hoarder and also elves might be poisonous.

“... The brave Goldilocks didn’t cower before the Great Slug! He took up his sword once more and held the vicious beast at bay as Princess Silverfoot led all the people out of the Flower Kingdom."

Bilbo updates and localizes the Fall of Gondolin for a small and hobbitish audience.

Hopefully Glorfindel, a good chap if there ever was one, won't mind the tactful translation.

They're important, the myths people tell about themselves, about their histories. You can learn a lot from a tale or seven.

Eärendil
(Embracing the SILMARIL OF AIR)

Let followers of the patroneʃs of stars
Wear the mantles of their mighty host
Whilʃt I, a sailor of beaches and bars,
Tremble before beauty that makes all else toaʃt
Princes of elves have slavered o'er light
And jealous women caʃt away their frame
But it’s I, a man of little might
Who sits in jewellight, triumphs over flame

“Yikes,” said Gil-Galad, High King of the Noldor.

"The only concrete information the old woman has, from an elven friend of the woods, is that Thingol’s daughter has taken up with a man of Bëor‘s line. Beren, son of Barahir, a lost child of Dorthonion found in Doriath’s winding embrace."

Morwen and Húrin must deal with the rumor mill in a professional capacity. Unfortunately this latest tale comes with familial entanglements.

"Hail Earendel, brightest of angels
Sent over Middle-earth to men."

Eönwë plays messenger as Elwing and Eärendil begin to adjust to their new lives as a lighthouse keeper and a star respectively.

"“Children?” Felagund sounded uncharacteristically distressed."

Bëor strongly discourages his friend from adopting.

Barad-dûr has fallen. Celebrimbor does some light metalworking for the sake of sentiment (and maybe something more)

"Few stories were told of Nienna, not because she was not loved, but because she was loved too much. Those elves who dwelled in Valinor knew her sorrows and did not pry at them. Her part in the stories of others was glossed over, her name whispered gently, her tale left unspoken and unrecorded. Such was the respect given to her, for all people might need pity some day.

If an exile from over the sea needed to learn, or a new child asked, they were shared only snippets of thought, memories, echoes of what was told perhaps only once long ago.

These were the things that were not said."