hhimring: (Default)
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)
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.)

http://b2mem.livejournal.com/259949.html


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

hhimring: (Default)
Various people on my f-list have been doing the three-sentence (actually more like three sentences and up!) comment fic meme recently, with lots of interesting and sometimes hilarious results. They are really worth checking out!

I've had a Lalaith ficlet written by Oshun at my request.
It's chapter 7 here (link to Trifles on AO3).


hhimring: (Default)

I believe that everyone has actually found this already!
But belatedly reccing the lovely Halloween treat written for me by Zeen (links go to AO3):

A Night In the Forest (1681 words) by zeen
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Family Relationships, Ambiguous or Implied Relationship(s)
Characters: Fingolfin, Maedhros, Fingon
Additional Tags: Awkward Conversations, Family, Uncle-Nephew Relationship
Summary:

Fingolfin and Maedhros have an unexpected encounter in the woods during the Mereth Aderthad.

Link to the story on SWG:  http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=2029
 


hhimring: (Default)
Quotation from Chapter Five of Tengwa Malta, now posted on SWG here: http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=1742
(written by Sky Langolin, translated by Gwailome, this chapter beta'ed by Lyra)


“Oh ho, you’ve brought a lyre!” – the Nolofinwion says and deftly shifts the grass-stem from one corner of his mouth to the other.

“I have,” - I answer and feel embarrassed when I utter my request. – “Will you play it?”

“Me? Am I continually tortured by Macalaurë’s lessons?”

“If I play, the water in Ulmo’s sea will turn sour.”

Finyo laughs. I catch up with him and we walk on side by side. The sky above is flooded with an even, gray, shining tone.


Tengwa Malta illustration: Fingon, drawn by Gwailome



UPD. In the lamplight by ~Gwailome on deviantART



hhimring: (Default)
Here's a Glorfindel in Gondolin looking  pensive, to go with your beautiful story Another Future.
Happy birthday and many happy returns!



Glorfindel by ~Mallorn85 on deviantART

hhimring: (Default)
Wishing you a very happy birthday and many happy returns with Hrymfaxe's drawing "Captains of Doriath", in honour of your wonderful and deeply moving new story The Black Sword about Mablung and Beleg!


Captains of Doriath by ~hrymfaxe on deviantART

hhimring: (Default)
WARNING: Possible Hobbit movie spoilers.

At Tolkien Weekly, Dwimordene offered an excellent explanation of what Thranduil was doing on top of that cliff, looking down, just as the Dwarves were fleeing Erebor: http://tolkien-weekly.livejournal.com/954907.html

I suggested to her that she should write another drabble from the Dwarves' point of view, she challenged me to do it myself and I did (http://tolkien-weekly.livejournal.com/955623.html).

Now archiving that drabble here below the cut.


Read more... )
hhimring: (Default)
Third instalment of the fic about my OFC Naurthoniel for the Bechdel Action-Adventure Challenge (http://aliana1.livejournal.com/104156.html).
(Meanwhile Huin had posted an intriguing start to her Beruthiel story for the challenge: http://huinare.livejournal.com/119581.html.
See also Pandemonium's Orcling, which I believe was also written for this challenge: http://www.lotrgfic.com/viewstory.php?sid=2333)

The story so far:
The Feanorians are camped on one side of the lake of Mithrim, the Fingolfinians on the other. Negotiations between their leaders have stalled right after they began.
Naurthoniel, a Feanorian, has been asking a Sinda, Huntress, to carry gifts of food for her to the Fingolfinian camp in secret. She now is on her way to the Fingolfinian camp herself with Huntress as a guide and a basket of food on her back.
Who exactly was she trying to send the food to and did they in fact receive it? Is she going to succeed in meeting them and how will they react? And how dangerous is all this anyway? Or not?

Warning: This is where it gets really rather grim, although perhaps not quite in the way you expect.
Rating: Teens


Read more... )
hhimring: (Default)

I'm afraid this is my second post today.
But Erulisse, Aliana and Dwimordene have now all completed their Bechdel Challenge fics, so I felt impelled to at least plod on and finish and post my second chapter.
For the really exciting stuff see here (SLIGHT SPOILERS):Meanwhile, my Feanorian OFC Naurthoniel and her Sindarin companion are stealthily creeping through the night on their way around the lake of Mithrim:

Read more... )

hhimring: (Default)
Some of you may have seen my post about Gwailome's project to translate Sky's Russian novel into English on the SWG community on LJ here:
http://silwritersguild.livejournal.com/207599.html
The good news is that, thanks to help from Lyra, parts of the English translation of the novel have now been posted, on DeviantArt for now, but hopefully soon on SWG as well!
Here is a teaser featuring Maedhros and Fingon riding in the forest in Mithrim:
http://gwailome.deviantart.com/art/Tengwa-malta-Ride-in-the-forest-345814967
And here is the beginning of the novel:
http://tengwa-malta.deviantart.com/
You can't resist the lure of Maedhros in the Moscow subway, can you? Can you?!


hhimring: (Default)

Master list of my review re-post and recs project (authors in order of posting)
 

List with links to journal entries under cut )
hhimring: (Default)
Seventeenth review re-post, the second today and the last in the series (apologies to those authors I did not manage to include).

This last review is of Clodia's Tales of Older Days, which is thoroughly wacky and thoroughly wonderful. And she has hinted there might be a continuation one day!

Link to story on fanfiction.net: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5796082/1/Tales_of_Older_Days

MEFA review under cut (spoilers) )

hhimring: (Default)
Sixteenth review re-post: Survival of the Fittest by Erulisse, the first story to make me consider wargs in any depth--and it is quite a frightening depth at that!


Link to story on SWG: http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=1260

MEFA review under cut (spoilers) )
hhimring: (Default)
Fifteenth review re-post (the second one today: as I explained in my last post I'm running out of days for this project): Spring Cleaning by Russandol, a story that is irreverent in the very best sort of way and a great deal of fun into the bargain!

Link to story on SWG: http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=1255

MEFA review under cut (spoilers) )
hhimring: (Default)
The last couple of posts in this series are coming up. It's not that I'm running out of talented authors to praise! But I'm running out of days for this project.

Fourteenth review re-post: "Into the Realms of Ulmo" by Dwimordene, the story that made me really believe in Sea Longing and understand Tuor so much better!

Link to story on SWG: http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=1131

MEFA review under cut (?spoilers) )

hhimring: (Default)
Thirteenth review re-post: Carmina Brethilia by Robinka, another WIP that I hope so much will be finished one day. Robinka can always be relied on for a fascinating portrayal of the Sindar, especially Beleg. This work also contains intriguing glimpses of the Haladin and strong, interesting OFCs.

Link to story on SWG: http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=1324


Review under cut (spoiler alert) )

hhimring: (Default)
Twelfth review re-post: A Rose By Any Other Name by Pandemonium_213, a story that is clever, inventive and very funny, not to mention delightful...

Link to story on SWG: http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=1280

MEFA review under cut (spoilers) )
hhimring: (Default)
Eleventh review re-post: In Mordor, Where the Shadows Are by Marta, a story that will give you plenty to think about but also a moving portrait of Elrond and especially of his friendship with Gil-galad.

Link to story on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/series/7747


MEFA review under cut (spoilers!) )

hhimring: (Default)
Tenth review re-post: Breaking Bread by Elleth, a deeply moving story that shows the damaged and the hurt beginning to reach out to each other.

Link to story on SWG: http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=1197&chapter=9


MEFA review under the cut (spoilers!) )

July 2017

S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819 202122
23242526272829
3031     

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 26th, 2017 02:34 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios