daeron

Mae govannen na in-ennyn eryn! (Well met at the gates of the forest!)Our story? A disenchanted NYC lawyer moves to rural Ireland, unintentionally entangling herself with the Wood-Elves of Hobbit fame that never departed Middle-earth. An Irish ex-con plus colorful friends soon follow and life is never the same. The deeds and achievements of the younger race of Men in all their splendor and horror unveil to the ancient, immortal and arguably stagnated race of Elves, leaving much to be explored of society, history, culture and beyond. More than two decades’ story time tell a tale of social collapse, families that grow under one very large roof, battles against past and present traumas, prejudices, and the slow return of the great First Age Elves to the light of day. Eru Ilúvatar had a plan for this world of Arda. Tolkien never elaborated. So a little voice said: "Go finish the Ainulindalë." And we respectively said: "Okay. I need tea." This fic has a Discord server, Aran Thranduil's Dining Hall. All readers are welcome: https://discord.gg/ywxmuHpXba . We lurk mostly 10am to 10pm Pacific Standard Time. Link not working? Please leave a comment on the fic and let us know so we can fix it!

So I have a prompt list. Several actually. And every day I write a short story based off my prompt word/phrase of the day. All of them are Silmarillion-related (dips into The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings here and there). Expect everything ranging from utterly cliche romance to mildly explicit gore and horror. No one ever said Arda was a nice place. But do note that I won't be posting any smut here. Prompts are meaningful snapshots, and unless the sex is really important, I'll be skipping it to get to the point.

When Shadow returned to Arda marred, it fell upon a land long accustomed to living beneath a veil of darkness. The light of its people was never one so easily dimmed, you see . . . A collection of ficlets and drabbles. Next up: The survivors of Doriath, and the spring.