Running Yavanna's errands in First Age Middle-earth is a tough job, but someone has to do it. (Written for the B2MeM prompt, "Write or create art in which a character plants something." Not a light-hearted humour fic. At all. A little quirky, though.)

Some people are naturally good at romance. Others struggle with it, even when surrounded by flowers, love songs, and heart-shaped cakes. Guess which group is featured in this story?

Wherever Túrin goes, emotional turmoil is sure to follow. The marches of Doriath are no exception.

Ulmo be thanked, the Noldorin refugees have finally found a leader. He has the most ridiculous name, though: Ereinion. "The Scion of Kings". And where did he come from, anyway? Cirdan attempts to find out.

Maedhros and Maglor discuss the Noldolantë. This ficlet à clef is dedicated to everyone who has ever given me beta-no, wait, to everyone who has ever had cause to identify with this version of Maedhros.

(Or, One Flew Over the Halls of Mandos) The Silmarillion is so full of heartbreaking, wasteful, tragic deaths that it sometimes seems as if the not-tragically-deadly parts are there only to give the readers a little breather. I expect that everyone has a death or two that they find particularly distressing. Amarië certainly does. But at least she can do something about it...

Come in for meta, stay for the relationship drama! This was written for a fic swap, where I was assigned a complex prompt about Aegnor/Glorfindel. I believe I have managed to include all the story elements asked for. I have also amused myself by giving Aegnor some unique views on controversial issues such as Kinslaying and the Gift of Men. NB: This is not my usual Glorfindel.

So, how did Glorfindel of Gondolin make his (posthumous) way to Middle-earth in order to become Glorfindel of Rivendell? The relevant canon is full of uncertainties and contradictions. I like to think it might have happened as follows...

One long, meandering conversation between Ecthelion and Glorfindel. About vases, and grapes, and Maedhros, among other things. NB: these are my versions of these characters, as seen in, e.g., Flawed and Fair, and, while this story does not contradict canon, it does not have much to do with it, either. It's pure (s)elf-indulgence...

Finrod longs to tell his absent love everything, including all he has learned of Men.

Gondolin is at peace, and yet several of its citizens harbour resentments, ambitions, and unnatural desires. Much will be revealed in this comedy of errors starring Maeglin, Salgant, Glorfindel and Ecthelion. Slash, theoretical het. NEW: COMPLETE

Months have passed since the Nirnaeth, but Glorfindel and Ecthelion are not quite over it yet. Contains dark themes, humour, and slash, all mixed together pretty evenly, I hope.

As Gondolin burns, Salgant—ever an artist—chooses his fate.

Two heroes, a fallen city, and a dragon. Ereinion and Maedhros meet not far from the ruins of Nargothrond, and share an adventure.

A PWP epilogue to my fic "Flawed and Fair," starring Glorfindel and Ecthelion. Warnings for slash, dodgy humour, neurosis, and blasphemy.

An attempt to make sense of the mystery surrounding Glorfindel's reappearance in Middle-earth, presented using a rarely-seen perspective. (Warning for Eagle humour.)

A retelling of a very well-known story. Features Feanor and Nerdanel as young geeks in love, a rather unsympathetic look at Indis, and a lot of very simple sentences.

When Aredhel leaves Gondolin, Ecthelion is part of her escort. During the journey, he will have to deal with Sindar, orcs, giant spiders - and his unnatural feelings for Glorfindel. Slash, spiky humour. Complete.

Some say that character is fate. This is certainly true for Beleg, whose single-minded focus leads him straight to his Doom. Slashy, ridiculous.

Right before the War of Wrath, a very damaged Maglor ponders and remembers various matters.

Who was Ereinion Gil-Galad's father? Orodreth? Fingon? Finrod? It is an interesting question, but you will not find the answer to it here. You will learn quite a lot about Ereinion's mother, though.

A Maedhros-sans-hand story. Maedhros views his life's work as a game, plots his moves, and gathers some important pieces. Not slash.