Songs and tales around the fire

I'm Nerdanelparmandil. This blog is mostly dedicated to the Silmarillion, for which I write the majority of my fics. I post them on AO3.

Current WIP:

Hand of Gold - Russingon, from the Years of the Trees and beyond. 4/? chapters, rating E. I promise I will update this fic!

Finished fic about to be published:

Hungry for Love, Hungry for Blood series, Part I: Katabasis: focused on Maedhros/Fingolfin, rating: Explicit, length: 80k words. Featuring unhealthy coping mechanisms and Nolorin feudal politics. Explicit for both sex and mentions of torture, with a dash of undernegotiated kinks. Oh, and they talk. A lot.

What I'm currently working on (unpublished WIP):

Maedhros returns from the Halls of Mandos and diploatic incidents ensue. Family drama, exploration of trauma and depression, Valinorean politics. Russingon platonic endgame but it takes 100k words at least before they even meet. Currently finished part I, outlining part II.

Feel free to pop in my asks/dms to chat about anything Tolkien related or yell about Maedhros.

The Silmarillion will always be my main fandom, but I'll reblog stuff from other fandoms sometimes.

I got tagged by @ladysterndust at the right moment because I have *just* finished my fingolfin/maedhros fic! (now the editing begins).

In honour of this, here's a snippet, I think it'sthe last before I start publishing it. Enjoy!

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“Your majesty,” interjects Findarato, “if our goal is to deal in friendship with the Sindar, is it not perhaps better to find common ground with their King? He seems proud and willful, not dissimilar to Olwe, and our relationship with him may turn sour should we answer harshly to his words.”

Nelyafinwe turns his terrible gaze to Findarato, pinning him in place for a long moment.

“You have leave to embellish the message as much as you like, child of Indis,” he spits, “but I refuse to compromise on this. If Sindicollo wants to call himself lord of Beleriand, he should be where the true front is—” he slams his hand on the map spread in the middle of the table, index pointing at the line between Ard-galen and the feet of Angband –”here, right at the gates of Angamando, and listen to the cries of his imprisoned people slaving barehanded under some urqui’s whip, dragging heavy chains of iron and eating rotten meat. He hides, instead, behind his girdle and desires to lord over people he has never seen. I have little respect for such a King.”

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