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In at the Eye by Narya General Audiences
Fingolfin visits a recuperating Lalwen. A very short one shot, written as a treat for Bunn for Innumerable Stars 2018.
Time Waits for No Man by Linda Hoyland General Audiences
Arwen visits an aged Faramir.
~ Magnificat of the Damned. Book IV: Anvil ~ by Spiced Wine Mature
From Angmar to the Dagor Dagorath. The final story in the Magnificat of the Damned series. The Doom and destiny of the...
Where the Shadows Lie by ziggy General Audiences
The One Ring has been destroyed and Sauron banished to the Dark with Morgoth. But not all the Rings were destroyed with the...
Drabbles for Tolkien Weekly by Ysilme Teen
Drabbles for tolkien weekly, a prompt-based drabble community on livejournal.
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...
Wrath and Ruin by KimicThranduilion Teen
The battle with the Great Serpents of the North brought nothing but wrath and ruin for the wood elves. The aftermath is bitter...

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10/18/18 10:25 am
Narya, they're constantly touring through Europe and the USA, and sometimes even farther abroad. You might be able to find a concert close to you eventually. And I totally agree about the concert!
10/16/18 09:48 pm
Ysilme, that does sound wonderful, I am so jealous. There's something magical about a really good concert.
10/16/18 09:48 pm
Hi, Fadesintothewest! *waves* good to see you, hope work isn't too painful.
Spiced Wine
10/15/18 02:32 pm
That sounds amazing, Ysilme :)
10/15/18 12:19 pm
who of my music-loving OCs might be interested in playing the nyckelharpa/keyed fiddle... *ggg* )
10/15/18 12:18 pm
I've been to the most wonderful concert yesterday, Swedish Folk string trio Väsen. The music was so beautiful, and it felt so much like Middle-earth, too. (now I need to figure out
10/15/18 12:17 pm
Nice to see you popping in here, fadesintothewest! *waves* *waves generally around, too* Hope everybody else is doing well enough.
Spiced Wine
10/15/18 10:53 am
Hope you do, too, Fadesintothewest :) Good to see you!
10/15/18 09:27 am
Just wanted to say hello. I know things are slowed down right now. I wish I could be more present but work. Looking forward to participating more soon!!!
Spiced Wine
10/14/18 12:23 pm
Sign of a good fic, if you ask me :)
Shout Archive

Those Without Swords by Narya

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Story notes:
Himring requested Írimë with the two daughters I gave her in my fic "Song for the Morning." This takes place much later in the timeline than that story, in the early First Age. I hope you enjoy.
The light was wrong for sketching, Olorissë thought – too weak, too pale, too tired. The crackle of the camp fires snapped over the cold ringing of metal as her mother and sister practised. Her pencil flew across the page, one deft stroke after another capturing the swing of their blades, the arc of their bodies, the sun in their braided hair.

A fluid feint-and-lunge from Ríniel, and suddenly Írimë was on her back in the dust, laughing.

“Well done!” Her blue eyes flashed with pride as Ríniel pulled her up. “Olorissë – you next.”

Olorissë's stomach knotted. “Here? In front of everyone?” Blood heated her cheeks. At the Lammoth she had hidden in the rearguard with the children and servants, knowing well that she had none of Ríniel's athletic grace, or her brothers' fierce courage.

Írimë raised an eyebrow. Suddenly she looked so like Grandmother Indis that Olorissë flinched. “Yes. Here.”


“Do not argue!” More softly, she added, “Do you imagine you are safe from danger because you do not wish to bear arms?" Defiance darkened her bright eyes. "I will not let this war have my daughters; it has taken too much from us already.”

Memories flickered in a cruel dance – Fëanáro's wild cries when he learned of Finwë's death; Elenwë, hauled stiff from the water; Turukáno and Itarildë's frozen grief; Arakáno's bloodied corpse; Nelyo, lying maimed in the Healers' tent. Olorissë swallowed and got to her feet.

“Good.” Írimë tossed over one of the practice swords, and smiled her approval as her daughter caught it. “Now – on your guard.”

Olorissë relaxed her frame and raised her blade in a soldier's salute.
Chapter end notes:
"Amya" - Quenya, "Mother." Informal. Source: Parf Edhellen.
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