A Haiku for The Sons of Fëanor

Decided to try scribbling out my own ideas for a telling of the Second Age

The daughter of Celegorm and Aredhel and the son of a certain Gondolin Lord grow up in Oromë's woods oblivious to their true heritage. A tournament in Tirion reveals hidden truths, secrets and long lost relatives. The two are thrown head-first into the fight against Morgoth and the family drama continues. Can they save their loved ones from oaths, betrayal and dark tragic fates?

And indeed, Finrod is there, nestled comfortably within the mess of ornate pillows he'd dragged into Thranduil's bed the night before. Thranduil can make out the dull glitter of jewels strewn around him even in the low light of the settled evening. Thranduil/Finrod, set in the Third Age. Finrod Never Died AU lmao

Maedhros wakes to the warmth of Fingon wrapped around him. Russingon Hurt/Comfort, set post-re-embodiment in Valinor.

Melian & Mairon meet under unexpected circumstances in Beleriand and develop an unlikely sort-of friendship over the years. Very light background Silvergifting & Melian/Thingol.

The last years of Numenor from the view of an unnamed observer

Un recueil de textes courts sur l'univers du Silmarillion nous plongeant dans un instant ou une pensée des protagonistes de l'histoire

Finderáto was fairly certain that his heart had stopped beating. He had been walking with Turukáno and his small family. They were talking about nothing in particular, simply trying to pass the time, when the ice had given out under Elenwë. The gaping chasm had mercilessly swallowed her and little Itarillë.

Elrond found himself looking at a face that he did not remember, but recognized anyway. "Ada?" his raspy voice trembled. Eärendil smiled.

Finrod felt utterly exhausted. His duel of Song with Sauron had drained him far more than he would have liked. The subsequent torture had not made his energy levels any better. Finrod would do it again if it fulfilled his oath and saved Beren.

Fingon is visiting the newly built Himring for the first time. The cold brings unpleasant memories.

Aegnor and Caranthir reflect on their mortal loves while in the Halls. They say time heals all wounds, but does it really?

"W-what are you?" Maglor couldn't help but stutter. I am Glaurung the Terrible. Fear me and despair. It answered.

Maedhros wasn't certain if he should be endeared or worried that the twins often came to him with their injuries. Maedhros suspect that while the elflings trusted Maglor implicitly, he had a bad habit of being a mother hen. Maedhros on the other hand was far more likely to patch up whatever injury and then send them back outside instead of to bed.

Elrond Half-elven is the newest addition to Gil-galad's court in Mithlond. One night separated from the fawning crowd, Celebrimbor confronts him about their pasts' unique relationship after learning something Elrond has tried to keep hidden.

"Since these identical twins were born mentally and spiritually linked, they had to be inseparable in body and spirit (meaning if one twin died, chances were that the other would soon follow, out of heartbreak or a very fragile fëa, if not constantly nurtured)." A series of bullet-point summaries of our favorite red-haired Fëanorian twins.

Short scenes written for the Arda100 LiveJournal Community about Luthien Tinuviel.

Long, long ago, Melian sought the help of the stars, hoping to cure a poison that wouldn't leave her body.

Elrond has arrived in Valinor, but Gil-Galad is mysteriously nowhere to be found. (Sequal to the fics "Between the Mountains and the Sea" and "His Lance Was Keen". A Finwë is Gil-Galad AU.)

Fingon still seems to be able to pray. Maedhros can't understand this.

Tar-Miríel has a vision about the future of Númenor.

One of the Lords of Gondolin fell in the Third Kinslaying... Leaving one behind.

Someone offers a Silmaril in exchange for Elrond and Elros. Maedhros and Maglor are not happy.

The past reaches out to the future and a living mystery is being delivered to the king of Mirkwood as a gift. What follows is a tale of longing and love, of lust and Death and depravity and through it all runs the tunes of the song of tomorrow...