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Last Light and First (384 words) by Himring
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Vána (Tolkien), Original Elf Character(s), Original Female Character(s)
Additional Tags: The Two Trees of Valinor, Female Protagonist, Valier, Childhood, Inspired by Art

Vana the Ever-Young learns from a child.
A vignette set during the events surrounding the Creation of the Sun and Moon.

Links go to AO3, but the b2mem entry is here: http://b2mem.livejournal.com/485869.html

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I finally managed to make a start on "The Songs" for B2MeM, but only by dint on starting in the middle. 
It's a story I had planned for some time and two drabble sequences I've written about OCs are basically setting out background for it.
The difficulty has been that it has an extremely angsty start that I could not bring myself to tackle straight on.

I've also posted some rec lists for B2MeM that are basically link collections:Read more... )
Rating: Teens
Warnings: veiled references to torture
Characters: Maedhros, OMC (Celvandil)
Pairings: Maedhros/Fingon (background, hint only)
Creator’s Notes: This is a chapter from the middle, I'm afraid. The story has been in planning for quite a while and forms part of my Maedhros Saga, in which Celvandil, Maedhros's stablemaster is a recurring OC.
Summary: In the early days of the settlement of Eastern Beleriand, Himring is still in the process of being built, when disaster strikes, in the form of an escapee from Angband, who has not in truth escaped, leaving Maedhros and all his people deeply disturbed and a woman among them in urgent need of Sindarin healing arts. Maedhros, who owes the victim a great debt, insists on setting off himself to try and find a Sindarin healer. Celvandil, his stable-master, accompanies him on his search.

They rode south-west all day, towards the location where the scouts had reported meeting the Sindar a couple of weeks ago. It was very unlikely that the Sindar had not moved on since and they had not shared their plans with Maedhros's scouts. They could have moved in any direction.

So, as Maedhros and Celvandil rode, they were watching for any signs that might indicate a Sindarin presence--knowing full well that the people they were looking for had developed not letting themselves be seen to the point of a form of art. They were also watching out, as always, anywhere in this land, for signs of danger--forces of the Enemy or sources of danger hitherto unknown. Already, they had moved beyond the area in the immediate vicinity of Himring in which they were familiar with every feature, every patch of ground. This was country they had explored but were not yet at home in.

It was a tiring ride, with the need for haste constantly in their minds as much as the need to be alert, and the weather somewhat insidious, not nearly as bitterly cold as the Marches could easily become, but a damp seeping chill that made itself felt more and more as the evening drew on. By the time they stopped, after nightfall, there were patches of thin mist drifting in the hollows. It was a comfortless halt--a trickling stream large enough to water the horses, a couple of scraggy bushes.

Maedhros felt wretched, far more than he should have, after what was, after all, no more than some hours of riding without serious incident and a bit of damp that he might otherwise not even have taken notice of. He crouched on the ground, suddenly feeling acutely remnants of physical pain that for the most part he had learned to tune out just by ignoring them. Worse, he was feeling strongly, once again, the malignancy of Morgoth's will beating on his brain from the North.

As the fortress of Himring took shape in Maedhros's mind and its walls, slowly enough, rose in actuality, stone by stone, on the ground, he had found it a serviceable defence, a mental one, even before its physical walls were strong or complete enough to keep out a single orc. He could focus on Himring and wall Morgoth out. If he was not inside the future walls or even some way away from the hill where they would eventually be, that had made no difference, in the past months--the mere concept of Himring in Maedhros's mind, the hope he had invested in the fortress and the protection it could offer his people had been shield enough.

But now Morgoth had broken through that defence--so easily. He had not had to send an army, he had just sent Targlin. And the message had been very clear.

I can break you. All of you. And I will.

Maedhros had already failed to protect his people before, exposing them to all this, and he had failed to protect them once again. And now he had compounded his failures by insisting on going off on this wild-goose chase for an unknown Sindarin healer who would have little interest in letting herself be found and might be unable to help in any case--just because, apparently, Maedhros could not learn to live with his mistakes.

Now here he was, sitting out here in the wilderness, feeling sick and sorry for himself, without Maglor to lend his aid, prop him up and gloss over his deficiencies until Maedhros regained his grip, as Maglor had so reliably done in the past. It had seemed the better plan to send Maglor with Caranthir on his explorations eastward, into unknown territory--Caranthir to sense intentions and threats, Maglor to soothe the feelings of any sentient beings that Caranthir's approach and manner might ruffle. It still seemed the better plan if only Maedhros had been as strong as he should have been, as strong as he had thought he was, but now Maedhros missed Maglor's support painfully.

In Maglor's absence he turned his thoughts the other way and allowed himself to think of Fingon. If Fingon could see him now, what would he think of this pathetic show his cousin was making? He would not tolerate it for long. He would do, as he had done in Mithrim: with gentle persistence bully him until Maedhros got up and got on with things, for the sake of the Noldor.

For the Noldor...

Maedhros's eyes pricked with tears. This was not working. He had tried to visualize Fingon's dear determined face, imagine Fingon's strong grip on his shoulders--but instead of feeling encouraged, he was assailed by an aching sense of separation and loss. Focusing on anything inside his head was clearly the wrong thing to do, tonight, and so he made himself look around for Celvandil.

Celvandil was still wholly occupied in taking care of their horses--talking to them softly, praising them for their cooperation and endurance today, checking their hooves one by one to make sure they were taking no damage on this extended journey. That was fortunate, thought Maedhros, it meant that Celvandil probably had not noticed anything, just now, and also that Maedhros had not been lost in misery as long as it had seemed, to him.

He considered Celvandil, his bent back, Noldorin black hair tied back simply but efficiently, his hands sure and gentle as he checked the grey mare's hoof. Maedhros could never have spoken as frankly to Celvandil, he thought, as he could speak to Maglor or as he could have spoken to Fingon, if circumstances had permitted it. He could not have revealed the extent of his weakness to Celvandil or the extent of his lingering pain or confessed his fears and flaws. It was not that he felt any specific doubt or distrust. His whole instincts were against it. He could make exceptions for Maglor and Fingon, nobody else.

And Celvandil would not have wanted him to. He surely would have been horrified if his prince had begun to unburden himself to him. Maedhros needed to remain a leader in the eyes of his people. He need the mantle of authority. If at any time, the fault lines became too obvious, at least his people needed to be able to avert their eyes.

Maedhros could not speak frankly to Celvandil, no. But nevertheless, Maedhros thought, Celvandil had without complaint accompanied Maedhros on his wild-goose chase in the wilds of East Beleriand, just as, before that, he had followed him loyally on the way from Mithrim to Himring and, before that, from Valinor to Middle-earth.

Maedhros remembered Celvandil as he had known him in Valinor. He had been the son of a successful horse-breeder who counted the royal family and the nobility among his patrons. Celvandil, as his son, had owned his own horses. When the Feanorians had reached Beleriand, all the horses anyone owned had been impounded by the crown, by military necessity, as had any other property that was too important to the war effort to be left in private hands. Celvandil's horses, the ones he had brought along on the journey from Tirion, were among them--not that they were taken away from him, at that point, as he was still employed in looking after them, but they were no longer officially his.

Celvandil had accepted it--nor had he shown any resentment, later, when Maedhros gave away so many horses to Fingolfin, accepting that necessity also, even though some of Celvandil's horses were among them. Fingolfin could be given only the best after all. How could peace among them otherwise be achieved? Celvandil had not understood, however, thought Maedhros, why Maedhros had also given Allinte away to Fingon, at the same time--whether Fingon had saved Maedhros from Thangorodrim or not. Allinte was Maedhros's own mare and so she had been his to give, as Maedhros, that is, as well as in his role as the head of the House of Feanor--but she was also the mare that Celvandil had trained specially to carry Maedhros when he first began to ride again, after Thangorodrim, and in that way she had been Celvandil's also.

Maedhros had been aware of an injustice, in that, although Celvandil never said anything and Maedhros could not offer any explanation that would not have shamed and embarrassed them both. Yet, Celvandil followed him still, ever since, and had given unstintingly of his loyalty as before and on this day, also.

'I will see to it that you have horses of your own again, one day, Celvandil' said Maedhros, suddenly.

Celvandil looked up, startled, carefully set down the last hoof and turned around.

'Thank you very much,' he answered. 'It is not really of so much concern to me, at present.'

Of course it wasn't, thought Maedhros. Celvandil's main concern at present was surely stopping his fool prince from running off and falling into a ditch and maybe dying there, when his people needed him in Himring.

But the idea of getting horses for Celvandil helped. It might in truth be as unattainable a goal, in their current situation, as ensuring the survival of the Noldor in Beleriand or defending Himring against everything Morgoth could throw against it or finding a healer out here in time to save an unconscious woman, but it felt more manageable, somehow.

'I will,' he insisted. 'One day. You will see.'

'Yes, of course,' said Celvandil, clearly humouring him, but nevertheless touched by the vehemence with which he insisted.

They spoke little further that night, rested until dawn and set out again as soon as it was light enough to see any tracks that might cross their path. Maedhros was filled with new determination. It was not possible that Maedhros Feanorion should allow a woman who had saved his life to die without doing his utmost to prevent it. They would find that healer.

More Author's Notes:
Targlin is the name I chose for the escapee of the Angband mentioned in the summary. The preceding chapters have in fact not been written yet, but at least he now has a name, which was somehow a major sticking point for me.
The whole story will be called "The Songs", when it is finished; at any rate that is the plan.
Also, the Sindarin healer Maedhros is looking for is a woman, but I'm not quite sure whether Maedhros knows this, at this point, or not.
hhimring: (Default)
In Taur-nu-fuin (382 words) by Himring
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Beleg Cúthalion, Gwindor (Tolkien)
Additional Tags: Taur-nu-fuin, Children of Hurin - Freeform, Dorthonion, reference to PTSD, Forests

Before Mirkwood, there was another great forest that fell under nightshade and Sauron himself, who was in those days but the servant of the Black Foe in the North, invaded it with fire and darkness and corrupted it. Treebeard knew it, before its fall, and sings with regret of the pine trees of Dorthonion. It was here that Beleg, who had once wandered freely in all the forests of the land, found Gwindor, who had only just escaped from thralldom in the Iron Hells of Angband, and, aiding him, persuaded him to turn around, in an attempt to rescue another man from the threat of the same thralldom.
Here is a conversation between them.

Links goes to B2MeM AO3 collection.

Link to b2mem community entry on Livejournal: http://b2mem.livejournal.com/430254.html

Back to Middle-earth Month 2017--Night and Day
hhimring: (Default)
I'm glad my little thank-you poem proved a success! I haven't managed to respond individually to the comments yet. People were commenting kindly on the breadth of coverage and I did try for a reasonable spread, but I fully realize I didn't manage to include any hobbits or dwarves, any Fourth Age, any Legolas or Aragorn and so on... And all of those were well represented in this year's B2MeM as well!

For the review challenge, I tried to comment on every post to the community for this year's B2MeM. Inevitably, some comments turned out to be longer and more lucid than others, depending on what I could manage at any given moment. I don't feel up to going back and checking and counting now, especially as my netbook is being slow. If I should have missed a post of yours, please let me know, will you?
Anyway, I concluded I must probably rate a Silmaril and snuck off with one (the banner's on my SWG profile page, I think it's the one by Lignota). Now I'm sort of waiting for someone to demand it back...
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I posted my final B2MeM non-compilation piece and it has had its reveal date today.
It's based on a story in the LOTR Appendices and grew out of a conversation with Lignota.

Title: Snowdrops
Author Name: Himring
Prompt: flowers peeking above the snow (Seasons of Middle-earth: Spring)
Summary: Valacar, prince of Gondor, is sent to Rhovanion to learn the ways of his father’s allies and falls in love with Vidumavi, the daughter of his host
Rating: PG
Warnings: none (except for a bit of geekishness)
Author's Notes: Simultaneously written for the current challenge at LOTR Community. The requirements were that the story should contain no dialogue and that one of the characters should point at something.

Link: http://b2mem.livejournal.com/273815.html

Read more... )

Back to Middle-earth Month 2014 Participant

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My compilation piece has had its reveal date.
Anyone on my f-list who happens to read it--would this piece benefit from more geeky footnotage? I figured that an Author's Note that mentioned Quenya and "mother's name" might already be off-putting enough, so I sat on my hands. But if anything puzzles you and you'd like it explained, don't be shy and ask!

Title: Forging Gold
Prompt: (B2MeM 2014: Winter) Use the following song to inspire your writing or artwork: "Crystal Forest" by Nox Arcana
Summary:  Maglor and three of his brothers on a day towards the end of the Fell Winter (First Age).
Rating: General
Warnings: none
Author's Notes: The title alludes to the alleged meaning of Maglor’s mother name (Quenya Makalaure, also rendered as “Gold-cleaver”).  Maglor’s father name Kanafinwe is also mentioned, as is the shortened form Kano.

Link to post on b2mem community:

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Back to Middle-earth Month 2014 Participant

Some very kind people have already spotted it, but my second non-compilation B2MeM piece was unveiled today:
This was basically a comment fic that ran away with me a little. The ultimate inspiration was Tehta's lovely little piece, The Snake, now posted on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/705754/chapters/2712421 (and a discussion on her LJ). 
At first, I was feeling a bit uneasy about my use of the B2MeM prompt, but that final para has been growing on me.

Title: Maglor Tunes a Guitar
Prompt: Durin's Day (Seasons of Middle-earth: Autumn)
Summary: In Umbar, Maglor tunes a guitar in the Feanorian manner. (No, not what you think: nobody dies!)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: moderate violence (very much non-graphic)
Author's Notes: With thanks for inspiration to Tehta and Anna Wing (Apologies for the way I used the prompt; the Dwarves refused to talk.)


Autumn produced a goodly harvest! Next week, it will be winter in Middle-earth and there are a lot more good things to look forward to.
My own compilation piece should be unveiled at some point during the week.

Still doing the review challenge, although behindhand with reporting the reviews and matching them up with specific challenges.

B2MeM Review Challenge stamp 2

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Back to Middle-earth Month 2014 Participant

My short non-compilation piece on Goldberry had its reveal date at the B2MeM community today.

Title: I Who Am Water
B2MeM Challenge: Seasons of Middle-earth, Summer (non-compilation)
Prompt: "Each year at summer’s end I go to find them for her, In a wide pool, deep and clear…" (Fellowship of the Ring, "In the House of Tom Bombadil")
Summary: Goldberry is the River-daughter
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Format / Genre: ficlet (108 words); character study (first-person)
Characters/ Pairings: Goldberry (Goldberry / Tom Bombadil)

Link to ficlet on LJ:

I'm doing the B2MeM review challenge (see stamp below) and there are plenty of contributions worth reviewing. It's not really fair to the rest to recommend any single one over the others, but yesterday's stories are fresh in my memory and were both excellent:

Children's Game
, by Elleth: : http://b2mem.livejournal.com/254984.html
Last Summer, by Rhymer: http://b2mem.livejournal.com/254766.html

Review Challenge Stamp 6

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Back to Middle-earth Month 2014 Participant

It's Summer in Middle-earth next week. Not where I am, of course, but at least I can dream!
Meanwhile, the first compilation posts have been revealed and it looks as if there is going to be a very nice selection of offerings!
And there's a neat review challenge at B2MeM this year, with shiny stamps to be won, see here: http://b2mem.livejournal.com/251354.html
Also, the next reveal of non-compilation posts is next Sunday. I've posted a little something to the queue.
There were some prompts still going begging (Durin's Day, anyone?) And there might be a prompt you wanted and missed in the earlier round?
Non-compilation post rules are here: http://b2mem.livejournal.com/251538.html. Prompt list is here: http://b2mem.livejournal.com/247842.html

hhimring: (Default)
You can tell I've been reading the B2MeM prompts list.
This drabble incorporates two B2MeM prompts I did not sign up for. (Yes, three prompts, almost more prompt than fic!)

Title: A Merry Feast
Author: Himring
Challenge/Prompt: Tolkien Weekly - Mulled Wine: Wine
Characters/Pairing: Hurin/Morwen
Rating: Teens
Warnings: all implied only and everything canonical (but you do know what happened to Hurin, don't you?)
Word Count: 100 Words by MS Word


hhimring: (Default)
To my surprise, I ended up writing another three pieces (and only one of the three was about Maedhros!)

Read more... )

B2MeM list

Mar. 21st, 2013 10:10 pm
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Not much by way of a report--maybe I can manage to compile some recs later...

This is just a quick list of my B2MeM posts:

Read more... )

Also, I had fun thinking up prompts for Dwimordene's B2MeM Insanity Challenge.
Dwimordene's stories for my prompts (but not just for my prompts!) are here--have a look:

hhimring: (Default)
This was written with Aliana's February Bad Sex Challenge in mind (http://aliana1.livejournal.com/107611.html), but if falls rather short of the gritty realism that challenge seemed to call for.

Pairing: Maedhros/Fingon
Rating: Teens
Words: c.150

Also, it is March now! It is B2MeM!
Go write! Go post!
At the moment, I haven't even got my head around those 26 initial prompts yet, but the banners are all lovely and shiny.
URL: http://b2mem.livejournal.com/200004.html

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I'm highly unlikely to come up with the inspiration for writing anything myself on this occasion before the end of the day, so I thought that I'd remind people of some of the excellent stories written for the Femslash Card prompts earlier this year during B2MeM.

Read more... )
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To my lasting astonishment, I kept right on writing until the end of the month.

At the moment, this is just going to be a list; I hope I'll manage to add links later.
(I wrote in two different places, on two different computers, one of which wasn't mine, and also posted in two different places, so it isn't as easy to keep track as it might be.)

Look at list... )
hhimring: (Default)
Okay, I'm going to argue that I was provoked into this.

To answer a B2MeM prompt, I posted "Waste Paper II", a section of a WIP which is all about Nerdanel agonizing over meeting Maedhros after his reincarnation: here.
Obviously, "Waste Paper I" is all about Maedhros agonizing about meeting Nerdanel, but I haven't actually managed to write that part out yet (because that part is actually, well, agonizing).
Then Jenny Dolfen posted her painting of Maedhros and Nerdanel, with Maedhros dramatically on his knees before his mother, and everyone's discussing the painting, which is: here.
Well, she's an artist. Emotions tend to look different in paint and in writing.
I couldn't help it. I wrote my version of the actual reunion, which is below the cut (and not much longer than this introduction).

Read more... )
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This represents a stubborn and possibly misguided attempt to squeeze something out of a couple of B2MeM prompts I'd already dropped: a snippet of Tennyson, a snippet of Charlotte Mew, and the alliterative verse prompt.
(I'm actually supposed to be writing a Sapphic stanza about baking and sand dunes before the end of today. It seems unlikely that this will happen.)

The piece is mostly a textual collage and forms an elegy on the fate of Boromir, the eleventh Ruling Steward of Gondor, son of Denethor I. (Boromir, son of Denethor II, was named after him.)
ETA: has received some further tweaks.

Collage under the cut )
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Alasse ([livejournal.com profile] alasse_mirimiel) has drawn my OFC Emlinn for my story The West Wind Quartet for a B2MeM prompt!
It's an illustration of the chapter "The Retreat from the Maglor's Gap". If you've read the story, go and check it out: http://alasse-mirimiel.livejournal.com/14637.html. If you haven't, go and check it out anyway and imagine that she's in the middle of a crowd of refugees fleeing towards Himring, with Glaurung hard on their heels.

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