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The Magnificent Faerie Advent Calendar 2018 by cheekybeak Teen
It’s that time again. What is in store for us when Aragorn drags half of Minas Tirith to Imladris for Yule? 
Oasis by Marchwriter Mature
On the verge of perishing in the desert after a fruitless search, a determined Elrohir locates a caravan of Easterlings...
West of the Dark East of the Sun by Marchwriter Teen
Determined to clear Ithilien of the enemy, Faramir is forced to decide the fate of a stranger trespassing in Gondor's realm.
The World breaks Everyone by mangacrack Explicit
Strength isn’t just about how much you can handle before you break. It’s also about how much you must handle...
Negotiations by arafinwean General Audiences
Haleth looks at Caranthir and wonders what he's lost.Or the first meeting between the two. Written for the Starter Prompt...
I'll be Yours if You'll be Mine by NelyafinweFeanorion Teen
Modern setting AU. Maedhros/Fingon. Maedhros owns a bookstore. Fingon is in grad school. Expect appearances from varied members...
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Anthology for short pieces set in or associated with Rohan. Most of these either feature Eowyn or draw on the material on...

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12/10/18 12:34 am
12/09/18 10:01 pm
Ok- thanks Nelya- happy birthday to your Dad!
12/09/18 08:58 am
Chapter 9 is up :) yep, Nelya, pretty sure that's right!
12/09/18 06:52 am
Ziggy I think narya posts ch 9 next then Gabriel with 10 and then you with 11 and Naledi with 12. Then cheeky 13, Narya 14, me 15 (not written yet!)
12/08/18 09:40 pm
I'm sooooo confused- whose turn is it??
12/08/18 04:06 pm
chapter 8. is up! Happy weekend to everyone!
12/08/18 10:03 am
Hope everyone is having a lovely weekend so far! :D
12/08/18 09:46 am
Happy weekend!
12/08/18 01:45 am
I posted chapter 7 for cheeky! I'll post chapter 8 early tomorrow US time!
12/07/18 01:34 pm
Have a great weekend Spiced! Have a great weekend everyone! :)
Shout Archive

Fairest by Narya

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Story notes:
Cheeky asked for a moment between Galadriel and her brother Finrod. I hope you like what I did with them.
Artanis jumped at the knock on the frame of the workshop door. She scowled at the figure silhoutted there, edged in the soft light of the Mingling. “Your timing is terrible, brother, as usual.”

Findaráto put a hand to his breast in mock contrition. “What did I interrupt?”

“Nothing.” She straightened her aching back and glared at the scale model on her workbench. “Or at least, nothing that matters.”

He stooped to inspect the thin metal basin she had begun to construct, and stroked its uneven rim. “I wish I could help, but no doubt the mathematics would be beyond me. Fëanáro -”

“No. I will do it myself or not at all.”

Her brother looked up at her, a gentle smile on his still face. The tips of his fingers rested on the basin. “What is it?”

“A failed experiment.”

He rolled his eyes. “What should it be?”

“Something like the palantíri - but independent of them, bound to nothing except the will of its user.” She felt the fierce rush that came with an idea in its infancy, the giddying spiral of possibility and freedom that seemed to lift her to a place far above Aman. “Perhaps, if I could develop the curwë sufficiently, we could use it not only to see but to travel – think of it! From one place or Age to another in the time it takes to draw a breath. Oh, I know what you would say, we should not meddle in such things, but imagine being able to travel back to Cuiviénen, or see into the future, or...” She stared bitterly at the crude model. “I had thought to use water, to try and catch an echo of the Music, and so manipulate it – but everything is so changed here. The influence, the feeling of the Valar clings to everything, like oil.”

Findaráto laid a hand in the small of her back, and she relaxed at the warmth of his touch. “They have done much for us.”

“And yet we are of Arda in a way that they are not.” She lifted her face to the breeze that blew into the workshop, the cool whisper in the Song that conjured wild storms and jagged rocks and starlight and blood and bone and danger. “Perhaps, if we could cross the Sea...”

“Just promise that you will not set sail without me.” Findaráto kissed her cheek, and then wrinkled his nose. “You taste of soot,” he complained.

Artanis laughed tiredly. “Then I had better wash. Very well; let us go. No doubt you were sent to tell me I am already late for dinner.”
Chapter end notes:
Curwë - Quenya, "craft." Source: Ardalambion.
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