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I don't know what it is lately with my reembodied Elves kick. Maybe it is because Halloween is getting close. Maybe it is the encroaching dark of autumn. Maybe I am just weird.

I have written *gasp!* ANOTHER STORY. What is this madness?? This is two stories in as many weeks that I wrote for no better reason than having time and wanting to spend it on writing. Creative writing. Fiction writing.

The story was written for the Silmarillion Writers' Guild Around the Fire challenge, for Kenaz, who offered one of those ridiculously tempting prompts that I find irresistible:

3rd/4th age Valinor-- Culture clashes and unanswered questions! For example... How do the Vanyar feel about the influx of relative "newcomers" to Valinor at the end of the 3rd Age? What happens when all of the Elves who can claim right to the title "High King" are re-embodied? Are any of the sons of Fëanor ever released from the Halls of Mandos, and if so, what is the reaction from the Teleri? What happens when members of a family who left Valinor for Middle-earth reunite with family members who didn't leave? Lots of territory to explore here! :)


I remember honing in on this prompt back at the beginning of the challenge, when I was hoping but still uncertain that I'd be able to write anything for the challenge. As the weeks swirled by, I returned to the prompts and kept coming back to this one. It sounded cool, but I had no particular ideas for it. About a week and a half ago, I went back to the prompts, wanting to write, and again came back to this one. This time, I thought about the experience of returning to Ocean City year after year, discovering each time that something cheesy and beloved that had been there since I was a kid had been replaced by something shiny and new. It's a very real sadness, even recognizing how stupid it is to mourn, for instance, an aqua-colored motel I never stayed at or a restaurant where the food was no longer very good but where my sister had once fallen off a chair.

Of that feeling came THIS. The story grew to almost 10,000 words before all was said and done. Here is the summary:

It's the Third Age. Tirion has developed suburban sprawl, and psychotherapists are in high demand. An unkinged Finarfin experiments with political radicalism and has turned the palace into a memorial of the kinslaying. Amarië composes beat poetry. And Finrod has been reembodied into a world and among people he barely recognizes. Dark humor, for Kenaz for the Silmarillion Writers' Guild Around the Fire challenge.


It can be read on the SWG, MPTT, and AO3.
Y'all. I wrote a piece of fiction! Do you know how happy this makes me because it suggests I might have a creative life again?!

The story is for Silver Trails, for the Around the Fire challenge the SWG has been running this quarter. ST asked for, "I would like a conversation between Caranthir and Maedhros, in Valinor, once they both leave the Halls of Mandos. Please don't write them at odds with each other." Which kinda had my name written all over it.

The summary of the story:

After wandering accidentally near to Mandos, Caranthir encounters a procession delivering his newly reembodied brother back to the world: Maedhros. Caranthir breaks into his tent, and the two discuss healing, mutability, and the things that will never change.


It's kind of a creepy weird story because I'm kind of a creepy weird person I like to write that kind of thing. There are allusions to Maedhros's canonical suicide, so tread with care if this is something likely to bother you.

If you think this might be your cup of tea, then you can read "Bone-White" on the SWG, AO3, or MPTT.
Yes, I am really and truly posting a Silmfic story! That I wasn't "required" to write for an SWG challenge! Fancy that! :)

Tomorrow is my birthday, so I am offering this story as a mathom to my fandom friends. I used to write stories for my friends all of the time, and I really enjoyed this, but returning to school (as well as other obligations, fannish and otherwise) has meant that I no longer have time for as much writing as I would like. I miss it. One day, hopefully, I will return to it.

The summary I have given on my website and on SWG: Valinor has been left in darkness, and Finarfin is the new king of the Noldor. One night, he awakens with a strange vision: Someone has died in Middle-earth--but who?

I've rated this story Teens on SWG because of (obvious) character death and mature themes, whatever that is. I don't think there's much reason to tread with care unless you're bothered by canon characters biting the canonical dust.

The story is dark and weird and not very birthdayish at all, but I'm sure this goes without saying. As always, feedback (positive and negative) is welcome but certainly not expected. This story can also be read on my website and the SWG.

The Message )

Almost caught up! Still more drabble-type things, written on a somewhat daily basis.




Finwë, upon returning to his people from Valinor, ponders the difficulty of putting into words what he has seen. I've gone for a slightly surreal feel here in hopes of maybe conveying what it was like for the early Elves, dwelling in a world where so many things are new to them and there is much still to understand. This is a tribble, 300 words.

Words to Tell )

Morgoth attempts to persuade Maedhros into encouraging his brothers' surrender. Please be forewarned that this piece contains torture and violence, nothing graphic, but possibly bothersome to some readers.

This piece is a drabunculus. As far as I know, I invented the drabunculus form; at the very least, I invented the name drabunculus. Drabunculus is like homunculus: It is a single drabble with drabbles inside of it. In this particular piece, each number of the count (One, Two, Three) marks the start of a new drabble, a new introspection from Nelyo. The "container" of these three drabbles is also a drabble, bringing the word count for the piece to exactly 400 words.

It's not a particularly easy form to write, and I always swear that each drabunculus will be my last. But the form seemed well suited for this particular piece, so I brought it out again.

This is going to be the last, though. ;)

Persuasion in Three Drops )

This is one of those double-purpose series again. It is first--like all of the ficlets and series here so far--inspired in part by the word of the day. It is also a birthday gift for Anglachel in response to her request on HASA for a story about a building.

I've chosen Fëanor's house in Formenos. I will make a quick note on canon interpretation before offering the story. In the Felakverse that I use for my stories, Formenos did exist before Fëanor used it as a fortress for hiding his treasures. It began as a mining town that developed a reputation for serving as a safe haven for craftsmen with extraordinary talent and eccentric tendencies. Hence Fëanor's attraction to it. He spent summers here for many years before his exile from Tirion; hence his decision to live and store his treasures there during his banishment.

The note that Formenos was built after Fëanor's exile was made my Christopher Tolkien, and I don't consider it canon as I have never found writings from J.R.R. Tolkien backing it up. The word Formenos does mean "northern fortress," and that is the only--and rather flimsy, in my opinion--evidence behind CT's addition to the index that I have found.

So here are three drabbles and three double-drabbles about Fëanor's house in Formenos. Happy birthday, Anglachel!

ETA: This ficlet became immensely popular after I first posted it on my daily drabble on SWG and on the birthday-card forum on HASA. It's one of my favorites too, though, so I'm not complaining!

The House of Unexpected Light )

A silly little ficlet in 700 words. Celegorm gets stuck in a window, and Caranthir helps him out. Featuring hedgehogs, neglected laundry duty, and a bit of bathroom humor … literally. You've been warned.

How Carnistir Fixed the Towel Rack )

Just after Fëanor's birth, before Míriel's condition is revealed, Finwë is tormented by unease. A perfect hundred-word drabble.

Nonsense )

A while ago--too long ago--Kasiopea asked me to write a story about how Caranthir became engaged to his wife. At the same time as she made her request, I was engaging in a discussion on an email list about the Silmarils and why entities of good caused such evil.

The two ideas entwined, and this story emerged. It also uses the ideas I have developed in Another Man's Cage and other stories that Caranthir was so dark, strange, and solitary because he was extremely sensitive to mindspeak and constantly perceived the thoughts and emotions of others.

This story has been posted on SWG for about two months now. I am posting it here as well at the request of f-listers who aren't on SWG ... and also because all of my other stories are here; it seems a shame to leave this one out, considering.



The Coveted )

More Drabbles

Dec. 27th, 2006 09:47 pm
dawn_felagund: Skeleton embracing young girl (Default)
For [livejournal.com profile] heartofoshun is a strange quibble featuring a possibly-crazy Maglor, a decidedly weird Maedhros, and a lifetime of memories that might explain why Maglor chose the fate that he did.

Evidence Of )

For my dear friend Jenni are three double-drabbles about her two favorite Elves. Jenni requested Fingon and Caranthir, together. Not in that way…unless I wanted that, of course. Jenni, being one of the few people who I will unequivocally agree has a dirtier mind than me, certainly would not mind.

Well, odd pairings are always a fun challenge, so I went for it. Hence, this is a slash story. Not a graphic slash story but slash all the same. Therefore, it is not advisable to read it if you object to slash.

Spent on Joy )

More Drabbles

Dec. 24th, 2006 03:04 pm
dawn_felagund: Skeleton embracing young girl (Default)
I'm a bit behind on my drabble project, having spent the week writing a thoroughly addictive short story for Bobby. As I watch the football game (go Ravens!), I've been jotting down a few drabble-series. I still have several more that I'd like to write, so I'll try to post them next week.

A while back, when I posted the last chapter of my novella “By the Light of Roses,” [livejournal.com profile] vana_tuivana asked me, “Won't you write a novel (or a short story at least) about Telvo and Nandolin and what happens to them?” One day, Vana, I will! But in the meanwhile, I hope that a quibble about how they met might make you happy.

“The Seedling” is a slash story. It is not graphic in any way, but anyone who has read “By the Light of Roses” knows that Telvo and Nandolin are definitely slashy. Please keep that in mind when choosing whether to read it.

The Seedling )

[livejournal.com profile] tarion_anarore's professed weakness is for Caranthir, preferably angsty Caranthir—as though there can really be any other! In this series of four drabbles, I consider the symbolic journey of Caranthir to the moment where he decides to take the Oath.

What Becomes )
Because I have more people I want to write for than there are days in December, some days will necessarily have multiple pieces. Today is such a day. Today is Caranthir Romance Day. Because I sometimes honestly believe that I am friends with Caranthir’s most passionate core of fangurls, I usually end up giving stories about him the most as gifts. And romances are popular—particularly when that unreferenced “she” could be anyone!

So today, I have written two Caranthir romances, each five hundred words (though slightly different formats) and each a different pairing. The first is dedicated to Kasiopea, who is always such a help and inspiration to my work. A while back, she asked for a short story about Caranthir’s betrothal to his wife, and the story is in progress and forever unfinished. One day (soon, I hope), I will finally finish putting all of the words in my mind onto paper.

“Falling/Forever” is about Caranthir during the days of his father’s exile in Formenos when—according to my Felakverse—he first fell in love with his eventual wife Taryindë.

Falling/Forever )

For [livejournal.com profile] atanwende is a quibble about Caranthir and Haleth. Heroine has written such beautiful stories about this pairing that it is sometimes hard to force my mind back to my own verse and remember that Haleth/Caranthir is not really canon. This piece is set before their romance escalates, when Caranthir is still having naughty thoughts about his companion under the pretense of teaching her how to properly defend herself with a sword.

This quibble does contain mild sexuality but should be suitable for teenaged and adult audiences.

The Lesson )
Because I've been so busy, I haven't been able to post my gift drabbles on time, even though in some cases their written and waiting. There just aren't enough hours in the day. But here are the past two days' worth as well as today's.

[livejournal.com profile] oloriel asked for Feanorians and also admitted to a recent fascination with Maedhros’s captivity in Angband. For me, this is an ongoing fascination, so I took this idea and ran with it. Though it might seem a bit odd of an addition to a collection of stories to be given as gifts for the holidays, I have written about the captivity of Maedhros from the strange perspective of Caranthir.

In my storyverse, Caranthir is able to sense the spirits and thoughts of others. I use this idea in “The Space between Hearts.”

The idea of using a black bar to represent a word was originally done (to the best of my knowledge) in a short story by Joyce Carol Oates.

This story is dark and disturbing and contains violent images. Sensitive and squeamish readers should tread with care.

The Space between Hearts )

For [livejournal.com profile] allie_meril is a quadrabble—exactly four hundred words—about Nerdanel. In this quadrabble, she gives her father the surprising news that she has gone away and married a high prince without first seeking his permission.

Eru's Blessing )

A long while ago, [livejournal.com profile] appoggiato won the Spot the Bad Pun contest that I’d had for a chapter in AMC. Her prize was a story of her choice, and she asked for a story about Maglor during the happier times of the Fëanorian family. I’ve still yet to write the story, but I offer four drabbles in the meantime about Maglor during one of the happier times of his childhood. (And I will one day actually finish the full story!)

From the Doors of Night )
As many of you know, my holiday story project for 2006 is to write thirty-one (at least) series of fixed-length ficlets based on the requests and preferences of friends. Because I have been away since December 1st, I am a bit behind on posting, so I am going to post the first five days all at once.

Additionally, this series will be posted at HASA (members' side) and the Pit of Voles.

This first drabble series “Curiosity” was written for Angaloth, who I know fancies Fëanor and Nerdanel above all others. It is a series of three hundred-word drabbles about what might have first inspired their love…and led to their demise.

This series contains some very mild sexuality but should be suitable for teenaged and adult audiences.

Curiosity )

This series is for [livejournal.com profile] ladyelleth, who asked about how Nerdanel and Fëanor perceived their strange fourth-born son Caranthir. In the Felakverse that I use in the majority of my stories, Caranthir has the special gift of osanwë—or mind-speak—and perceives people interestingly as a result. While he remains dark and strange, his special gift also gives him extraordinary insight into the hearts and minds of those closest to him. This series of four double-drabbles explores this idea.

Strange )

“Effortless” was written for [livejournal.com profile] angelica_ramses. Earlier this year, we had a conversation about my character of Maedhros (Nelyo) in my stories Another Man’s Cage and “Essecarmë” and his quiet strength that I have tried to capture in these stories. While Maedhros has done his share of noble deeds, equally important—and probably more difficult—was the task of reuniting the Noldor and playing damage control for his little brothers.

Yet the conundrum always arises that what is most skillfully done seems to be most easily done. This series of four drabbles explores this idea, from the point of view of Maglor.

For readers unfamiliar with my other stories, Vingarië is Maglor’s wife.

Effortless )

This series of three double-drabbles was written for Ellfine, who is a fellow Finarfinatic and believes—as I do—that he was not the wimpy, soft-hearted king of fanon lore. “Sense of Swords” follows Finarfin through his decision to travel to Middle-earth at the end of the First Age to join his people in fighting Morgoth. The line about this in The Silmarillion is rather ambiguous about whether he joined the other Noldor in this battle, but I like to think that he did.

Sense of Swords )

My dear friend [livejournal.com profile] rhapsody11 adores Celegorm and Maglor, so gifts for her always involve trying to fit them together into a story. In “Of Love, Mischief, and Flowery Prose,” young Celegorm realizes the gravity of the pranks that he plays on his older brother Maglor and seeks atonement for his misdeeds.

The relationship that might have existed between these two contrary brothers is a source of endless speculation for me “Of Love, Mischief, and Flowery Prose” is set during the same year as my novel Another Man’s Cage, so Celegorm is equivalent to a seven-year-old and Maglor is a young adolescent. The ficlet is a quibble, so it is exactly five hundred words.

Happy Sinterklaas, Rhapsody, and thank you for all that you do!

Of Love, Mischief, and Flowery Prose )
I wrote this story for Vana's ([livejournal.com profile] callirhoe) birthday, which was actually back in July. But since Vana didn't have computer access until recently, I intentionally withheld posting it because it didn't make much sense to post a birthday gift when the birthday girl can't read it!

Vana requested a story about Caranthir and the sea. This story is exactly that. In it, I assume my Felak!verse notion that Caranthir was the most "psychically" gifted of all of the Feanorians and that his osanwe guided much of his behavior. "Salt" spans his entire life--from the age of three years old until the day of his death--and considers how one misunderstood Elf and his relationship with his mother, the sea, and his own strange emotions might have led to the eventual overthrow of Morgoth.

Sounds strange? Well...yes. This story is a bit experimental, so please do not hesitate to let me know if something does not work for you. I started this story in mid-June and just finished it at the beginning of August. The basic concept and the first few pages came easily, like they'd already been written and just needed to be put onto paper. Then it faltered, and I wasn't sure exactly how I wanted to connect the many dots I'd drawn into a coherent story. July through August was mostly spent thinking about this story and how I wished it to end. In the past few days, I finally came to enough of a decision that the ending wrote itself, much as the beginning had.

But anyone who has lived with a story barely over ten pages for the better part of two months can probably relate the exhausted inability to comprehend anything about said story any longer. So I appreciate any honest assessments that readers are willing to give.

Vana, I hope that you enjoyed your birthday and send my fondest wishes, virtual hugs, and one strange story! :)

Salt )
I am two days early, but since I am currently staring down a monster of a busy weekend, here goes....

Happy Birthday, Unsung Heroine!!!

I hope that all of your wishes come true, on this day and all others! I send you many virtual hugs and wish you many pretty Elves that magically speak and shut up just when you want them to!

And it might amuse you to know that--the other day--I was telling Bobby that I had a story to post for my online friend, Unsung Heroin. Eek. That was not a Freudian slip, I promise! ;)

Because it is your birthday, and I like to torture honor my friends on their birthdays by writing them stories, then I wrote for you a story. Now, a little bird told me that you like Haleth and Caranthir, and you like even better the "Interspecies Love Song" that occurs when they are together. And so I give to you a little Haleth/Caranthir action. (It's Haleth/Caranthir versus Caranthir/Haleth because we all know that Haleth was definitely on top!)

This little tale ponders what would have happened if Haleth and Caranthir did have a romantic relationship. With the fates of the Eldar and the Edain sundered, it would have been a bittersweet love...or would it? Given the nature of Haleth and Caranthir, the story is rated for adults only for some sexuality--though nothing insanely graphic--and violence, as well as thematic content, if you're bothered by discussions of death and stuff.

As usual, comments and criticisms are welcomed! I have given this one read-through, so it's on board for editing and widespread posting in the future, and all suggestions are most helpful.

Best wishes again to you, Heroine, and happy early birthday!

The Choices of Spirits )
Word of the Day for 30 March 2006--benignant )

The past few days, I have done serious drabbles bordering on depressing. But given today's word--and today's mood--I can't do that. After all, I get to leave work in a mere forty-five minutes and don't have to be back in my cell office until Monday. So it's high time for a light, fluffy, fun, happy drabble. Actually, double drabble. (If I'm going to break the mold, why not break it big time?)

Continuing the Tradition )
Happy Birthday, [livejournal.com profile] tarion_anarore!!!

I hope that your day is wonderful and portends a year of much more joy! :)

The short story that I have written in honor of Tarion's birthday got its inspiration from two places. The first, naturally, is Tarion, who wanted a story about Carnistir in his youth, preferably angsty and not the romantic sort, since she got angsty romantic humor for Christmas.

The second bit of inspiration came from [livejournal.com profile] rhapsody11, who asked me how Carnistir--who once likened the music around Macalaurë as buzzing gnats--might see a writer. Would he perceive the words that constantly whirl around our heads and dominate our thoughts, even while we are doing other things? I thought this was a wonderful question, and it opened the topic for exploration for me.

"Constellation" is a story about the friendship between young Carnistir and the loremaster Rumíl of Tirion. (Not the cute one...sorry, girls!) I am using my Felak!verse version of Rumíl. For those who have not read the chapter in Another Man's Cage where Nelyo discusses meeting Rumíl with his father, a brief synopsis of my take on this character follows, behind the cut.

Felak!verse Rumíl...warning for discussions of violence )

"Constellation" also uses the Felak!verse notion that Carnistir is extraordinarily gifted with osanwë and can perceive things about people that others cannot. This story is essentially about perception: Two Elves who are often misread by those around them and the friendship they formed based on this connection and their ability to see what the others cannot.

I behaved for once and, aside from a bit of violence, there are no strong warnings for this story, and I'm keeping it at a safe general warning.

Constellation )
Tarion asked for a meeting between the sons of Finarfin and Caranthir, preferably with a bit of angst. As I came into this story after writing a lot of the heavier stuff, this story turned into something of a funny affair, but it talks about teenaged first love quite a bit, so angst is guaranteed, although hopefully of the funny variety.

([livejournal.com profile] alassante, you asked how Caranthir can possibly star in a comedy: Here ya go! :^D)

Here, a young Caranthir discovers the foolishness that pretty girls inspire in teenaged boys and falls in love with someone most inaccessible. This story is rated general, although I can't guarantee that Caranthir's ramblings don't border on sickeningly saccharine and inane at times and that he doesn't make the occasional boob comment. He is a teenaged boy after all.

When the Stars Smile )